


Back to the Start

by Mischel



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (handcuffs), Adventure, Arthur Finds Out About Merlin’s Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Castles, Horses, Knifeplay, M/M, Magic, Magic Revealed, Meadow, Merlin's Scars Revealed, Merthur - Freeform, Non-Sexual Bondage, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Swordplay, The Kingdom of Camelot, dragon - Freeform, forest, minor violence (fight against bandits that results in minor injuries and death of the bandits), spells, village
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 09:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 87,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischel/pseuds/Mischel
Summary: There's a new witchfinder in Camelot. He's younger but smarter, more dangerous and hell-bent on hunting down a sorcerer called Emrys. Fearing the worst, Merlin flees and leaves Arthur only with a letter. But Arthur, being as stubborn as ever and not liking the idea of Merlin out there alone, sets off after him, finding out more about his servant and friend than he'd ever wanted to as a result. Not only must Merlin and Arthur learn how to be friends again, but also how to work together and get rid of the witchfinder, who's meant to stay by the king's side forever. Especially after he finds out who Emrys is and where he's hiding.





	1. The Secret Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this back in November 2017 as a NaNoWriMo project, and it took a long time, but it's finally finished!
> 
> This was my first ACBB and it was fun! I think that without the deadline I'd never even finish this fanfic - I dealt with it like with any other deadline in my life - I ignored it for half a year and then finished everything on the last few days. Finding a beta was definitely a challenge, too, but then I found two that helped me a lot to get everything done in time - thank you so much Savannah and Jetainia! And another thanks to Sacred Cakes for doing your best, even though the universe was apparently against us. While finding a beta was a challenge, finding an awesome artist was not - I love the art and I want to thank matchboximpala for picking my story! It was messy and as I later realized, full of grammar mistakes, but you were willing to read it anyway. And thanks so much for being ok with me wanting to include my awkwardly drawn maps in the fanfic too! :D
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy the fanfic and the art! ;)

 

 

 

One little push on the door with his knee and he was in – closing the door behind himself again, he balanced the tray full of food on one hand as he entered the chambers. One, two, three steps to the table where he carefully set down the tray, and he could finally glance up at the prince’s bed just like he did every morning - only his gold hair was visible from this angle.

 

Merlin smiled.

 

“At least he’s not snoring today - hah, lucky,” he mumbled to himself, cheerfully arranging the food on the tray. (That apple had _not_ fallen down the stairs on his way up from the royal kitchen!)

 

At that moment, Arthur tossed in his sleep and let out a very loud snore.

 

Merlin smacked his lips and rolled his eyes. “Not so lucky after all,” he whispered, shaking his head. But once he was done with the food and turned towards the bed, he couldn’t help but smile again. Arthur was now facing him, expression peaceful and mouth (thankfully) closed. He looked so handsome . . . just like he did every morning. Well, maybe unless his mouth was wide open.

 

Merlin smirked and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in preparation for Arthur’s usual attitude right after he had been woken up. He rounded Arthur’s bed to get to the window, which he opened to let the cold air into the room along with some light. For a moment, the orange, red and yellow trees’ crowns and leaves on the ground caught his attention. The road to the castle wasn’t empty. Someone was coming to Camelot. A guest.

 

Merlin knew this because that’s exactly why he had to wake Arthur up a little earlier today. Someone was here to visit the king - which meant that both he and Arthur, as well as Gaius, had to be there, all dressed and fed. Merlin chuckled as he remembered that one time Arthur’s stomach had growled so loud that everyone in the throne room had heard it.

 

But if he didn't want that scenario to repeat, he had to hurry up. He was already a bit late, judging by the said guest that he could still see from the window.

 

Merlin turned to Arthur again and grinned. “Rise and shine!”

 

Arthur groaned and rolled even farther away from him, mumbling something unintelligible into his pillow.

 

“Come on, Arthur,” Merlin tugged at his blanket, slowly pulling it away. He knew that it felt like torture to Arthur on cold mornings. “You have to meet your father’s guest today.”

 

“Kaunos?” Arthur’s eyes went wide in a fraction of a second (much faster than Merlin ever remembered seeing), and then he closed them again in regret. “I completely forgot about that!”

 

“Yeah, well, that’s why I’m here,” Merlin shrugged with a smile.

 

“And that’s also why I’m going to be late. _Again_.”

 

Merlin frowned at that. “How can you tell I’m late when you haven’t even properly woken up yet?”

 

“Because I know you, and you’re incapable of getting here on time,” Arthur answered and rolled his eyes, throwing his legs over the edge of his bed.

 

Maybe Merlin hadn’t prepared himself for Arthur’s attitude enough.

 

“Prat,” Merlin cleared his throat loudly and went back to the window, just to open it a little wider.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“Just that I think I finally caught that _rat_ , sire.”

 

“What rat?” Arthur turned to him, looking confused and also not very convinced that Merlin was telling him the truth.

 

“The one that isn’t here anymore,” Merlin smiled. “Now, let’s get you dressed.” And without another word, he walked to the other side of the room, where he’d prepared Arthur’s clothes for this morning’s meeting the day before.

 

Arthur seemed to let the comment about the rat go as he finally stood up and headed for the changing screen. Not that he used it much anymore, Merlin noted. Lately, he liked to change his clothes wherever in the room he was, not really interested if Merlin saw him or not. And Merlin tried hard to pretend like it was no big deal, but honestly? He’s found himself staring at least a dozen times already.

 

“Here,” he handed Arthur his best red tunic and watched as the prince took off the white one that he was sleeping in. Merlin had admitted to himself a long time ago that he missed the days when Arthur used to sleep with his bare chest, but the summer was gone and the days were cold in this time of the year. And he couldn’t possibly let Arthur catch a cold, he’d never hear the end of that.

 

The prince accepted the red tunic and put it on, already getting out of his loose trousers. Merlin swallowed and looked away, starting to count the candles on the several candelabra on a little table in the corner of the room - sixteen, it’s always sixteen - but eventually glancing at Arthur anyway. He was just putting on the trousers that Merlin had handed him and- wait, was that a _smirk_? Did Arthur just _smirk_ at him? Oh god, did he know this entire time that-

 

“Do you have better clothes for yourself or are you going to embarrass the entire royal household in front of our guest today? Again?” Arthur turned to him, the smirk suddenly gone. (But Merlin could still see it there, almost . . . or was he just being delusional?)

 

“Wha- no, I thought I’d go in this,” he cleared his throat and looked down at his clothes. Without any warning, Arthur reached for the hem of Merlin’s blue shirt and felt it between his fingers, making a displeased face. Merlin knew that face _very_ well. “Oh n-no,” Merlin jumped away from him, his hands in front of him. “I’m not putting on that _ridiculous_ attire for Camelot servants ever again!”

 

Arthur only laughed, “I was joking.”

 

Merlin wasn’t entirely convinced though. “You know what? That apple that you’re about to eat for breakfast fell down the stairs and hit every step on its way down.” Arthur frowned at him. “I was joking,” Merlin shrugged and walked away with a satisfied smirk.

 

“I hope you are,” he heard Arthur mumble as he followed him to the table, where the breakfast awaited him.

 

There were times when Merlin was almost _sure_ that Arthur knew Merlin was in love with him. Like this morning, for example. But then there were times when Merlin was convinced that Arthur didn’t have a clue. Merlin knew one thing for sure - there was _something_ between them. And not just destiny, or friendship - there was something else, something that he hoped Arthur would recognize one day. But until then, all he could do was hope.

 

Filling Arthur's goblet with fresh water, Merlin watched as Arthur started on the ham and cheese, suspiciously eyeing the apple. Then he finally went to close the window, start the fire in the fireplace, and collect Arthur’s dirty laundry, avoiding the socks as much as he could.

 

“The meeting with your father starts in about twenty minutes,” he told Arthur, who was still sitting at the table on the other side of the room.

 

“Don’t be late,” Arthur replied.

 

Merlin just rolled his eyes, this time fondly. “Am I ever?” he whispered to himself. How many times had he already saved Arthur? And was he ever too late for that?

 

He picked up the basket full of Arthur’s tunics, vests, trousers, _socks_ and underwear, balancing it underneath his arm and against his hip. With his other hand, he reached into one of the closets and retrieved a dark brown vest that he’d also prepared the day before. Then he went back to Arthur and put the vest on the table, grabbing the basket with both his arms.

 

“It’s cold out there,” he explained with a smile.

 

“I swear I heard concern in your voice.”

 

“You definitely didn’t.”

 

Merlin smiled innocently at him and turned to the door only after Arthur returned the smile. In the next moment, he was already rushing down the stairs.

 

He needed to not only get rid of Arthur’s dirty socks (and other clothes) but also get back to Gaius' chambers and change into . . . Something better. Maybe his other red tunic? Or a blue one? What would Arthur appreciate more? And would he even notice?

 

Before he knew it, he was already on his way back home to the tower. He ran up the stairs and opened the door.

 

“Gaius?” The old man was sitting by the window, his head turned away from the young warlock. “What do you think suits me better? The red tunic or the blue one? And I know it’s cold, so I should probably keep the neckerchief, but do you think Arthur would- Gaius?”

 

The physician had turned to him while Merlin was speaking and he didn’t look happy at all. He looked as if something terrible had happened – as if it was now his job to deliver the awful news. His lips were a tight line instead of the smile that Merlin had expected and his eyes were sad.

 

“Gaius?” Merlin repeated, hundreds of ideas about what could have possibly happened already swirling through his head.

 

“Merlin, I need you to listen to me.” Gaius stood up and walked over to the warlock.

 

“Wha- is my mother alright?” That was the worst of all the thoughts that Merlin had.

 

“Hunith is alright. This is . . . something else.”

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“The new guest-”

 

“Kaunos?”

 

“Yes,” Gaius nodded. “What do you know about him?”

 

Merlin shook his head. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about him much at all - he was just a guest that was coming to visit the king. Maybe because he and Uther knew each other?

 

Gaius took a deep breath before he said what he needed to. “He’s . . . a w _itchfinder._ ”

 

Merlin took a step back and let the information sink in. Kaunos was a witchfinder. Another witchfinder. Why would Uther send for another witchfinder after what happened the last time? After what he did to Gaius? Had he seen signs of magic again? Was it all Merlin’s fault?

 

“Merlin?”

 

Merlin took a deep breath when he realized he’d stopped breathing altogether. “This isn’t happening.” He shook his head and without him being able to stop it, his eyes filled with tears. “Gaius, tell me this isn’t happening!”

 

Gaius closed his mouth - a thin line again. No smile.

 

And just like that, Merlin’s world crumbled around him.

 

“You need to leave,” Gaius continued.

 

“What?”

 

“Merlin, listen to me.” Gaius walked over to him and gently took his shoulders. ”The witchfinder is going to stay in Camelot until Uther is sure that there isn’t anyone with magic living in his kingdom. He can’t find out about you, that’s why you need to leave and return when it’s safe.”

 

“But . . . but what about you?”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Gaius smiled at him. This wasn’t the smile that Merlin wanted to see - it wasn’t at all reassuring.

 

“I can’t leave you here, Gaius.”

 

“You must.” His smile disappeared again. “Uther came here to tell me who Kaunos is in person. He said that he wouldn’t attempt to interrogate me again.” And before Merlin could say anything, Gaius enveloped him in a hug. “You must leave as soon as you can. No one can see you at the meeting either.”

 

Merlin hugged him tightly and nodded against Gaius’ shoulder. “I’ll leave,” he mumbled. Gaius nodded as well and let go of him.

 

“I need to go to the meeting.”

 

Merlin nodded.

 

“Good luck, my boy.”

 

“I’ll miss you,” Merlin brushed away his tears as he took a few steps closer to his room.

 

“You’ll see me again, sooner than you think,” Gaius smiled at him. Then he finally left the room and Merlin only heard his footsteps as he descended the stairs.

 

“Not soon enough,” he sighed, his voice shaking.

 

Ten minutes later, and Merlin had already packed his red tunic, one extra neckerchief, thick socks and trousers. He didn’t forget about his spellbook that couldn’t be found in Camelot, especially not with a witchfinder searching through every home, and he even took the little wooden dragon that his father had given him.

 

Looking at that little toy made his heart ache. His father died only five months ago, but it still hurt so much that he occasionally had nightmares about it. But he couldn’t think about that now. The meeting was about to start in a few minutes and he needed to be gone once it was over.

 

At least Morgana wasn’t here to go through this all over again. They still hadn't found her after she disappeared with Morgause. Merlin never stopped feeling guilty about it. If only there had been another way to save Camelot . . .

 

But that was another thing that Merlin couldn’t worry about right now. He stuffed the book and the little dragon (together with the rest of the breakfast Gaius had made him that morning) into his backpack, and with one last look, he left his room.

 

There was only one thing that he had to do now.

 

 

  

 

The halls were just as cold as the wind outside. It certainly wasn’t the most pleasant weather. Most of the people working in the castle were either inside one of the many castle chambers by a fireplace or already in the throne room, awaiting the guest - so now the only thing Merlin had to worry about was where to go after he said his goodbye.

 

He had no idea which direction to go or what to look for out there. He’d thought about going back to Ealdor (it was only for a few days or weeks, wasn’t it?) to let his mother know what had happened. But that was the first place everyone would go look for him if they thought he was running away. He couldn’t go back there - he had to find a new village. And since the only person stubborn enough to follow him anywhere was Arthur, he had to say goodbye without him or anyone else knowing.

 

Through a _letter_.

 

It shouldn’t be too hard. He’s written way too many speeches for Arthur over the three years that he’s been working for him.

 

Except that this _was_ hard. He was about to say goodbye to the man he hoped he could stay with every day of the week no matter how bossy he was. That was something Merlin still couldn’t wrap his head around. How could he have fallen in love with him? But he wouldn’t change that even if he could. He’d never change that because falling in love with Arthur made his days in Camelot infinitely more bearable and enjoyable.

 

No matter how bossy Arthur could be.

 

Merlin took a deep breath and turned another corner, heading for the stairs that led to the floor where Arthur’s chambers were. He told himself it was the cold air that got into his eyes, but the tears on his cheeks were proof that it wasn’t.

 

It was only for a few days, maybe weeks. He could stay away from Arthur and Camelot for that long.

 

But could Arthur stay away from him? If the letter he was about to write was to be believable, Arthur shouldn’t worry about him. He should just accept it and wait for his return. But if he didn’t believe what Merlin wrote, he’d surely go searching for him into the forest or Ealdor and get himself killed somewhere along the way . . .

 

Merlin closed his eyes and shook his head. He really had to stop thinking about things like this.

 

Arthur managed to survive the first twenty years of his life without Merlin there by his side. What could a few more days (or weeks) possibly do to him?

 

The young warlock finally reached the last flight of stairs and looked up at the corridor that led to Arthur’s chambers. The meeting had already started and Arthur was supposed to be there right next to the king, so Merlin didn’t worry about accidentally running into the prince in his chambers. What he didn’t expect though was someone else, standing on the upper end of the stairs with a basket in her hands as she looked down at him.

 

Gwen.

 

Merlin breathed out and his eyebrows knitted together slightly. He had hoped he wouldn’t meet anyone, but at least he could say goodbye to her as well.

 

“Merlin,” she spotted him on the bottom of the stairs and gave him a sweet smile. That smile disappeared though as soon as she got a closer look and saw how distressed Merlin looked. “What happened?”

 

“Gwen,” Merlin barely smiled and rushed up the stairs to meet her halfway. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, he pulled her closer to him, careful not to knock the basket out of her hands.

 

“Merlin? What’s wrong?”

 

Merlin couldn’t tell her. He didn’t even know what he’d tell Arthur once he had a quill in his hand and a blank sheet of paper in front of him. Besides, the real reason for why he was leaving had to stay a secret. As always.

 

“Nothing,” Merlin sniffled and closed his eyes briefly. Then he pulled back and regained his composure. “Please don’t follow me.”

 

“But-”

 

“Please,” Merlin looked into Gwen’s eyes but didn’t wait for a nod. He couldn’t tell her anything and he had to leave Camelot as soon as he was done with the letter. Once he returned, he could make up something to tell Gwen. But right now? She couldn’t know.

 

Without another word and with a hopefully reassuring smile that he managed to give her, he ran up the stairs and disappeared in another hall. He didn’t look back as he ran to Arthur’s chambers, but he didn’t hear any footsteps behind him anyway. Gwen was a good friend and a woman of her word.

 

As soon as Merlin reached the doors, he wrenched them open, stepping into the room and leaning back against the once again closed doors behind him.

 

In front of him was Arthur’s table, with candles and a pitcher full of water resting on its surface. In the corner, the fire he’d started earlier was still burning - the last bit of warmth he was going to get until he was safe in the forest or a cave somewhere, and could start a fire of his own.

 

Merlin sighed and walked over to Arthur’s writing desk. He let his backpack fall down to the leg of the table as he lowered himself down onto the comfortable chair. Picking up Arthur’s quill and moistening it with ink, Merlin chose a sheet of paper from the pile sitting on the corner of the desk.

 

With a heavy heart and a trembling hand, he began to write.

 

_Dear, Arthur._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of most of the chapters, there's a list of spells that I used/created, or some notes :)
> 
> And the art by matchboximpala can be found here [on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15999320) :)


	2. The Letter

The throne room was full of people - most of the servants were not present though and instead continued with their work elsewhere in the castle. Only the best servants were allowed to come to the meeting. (Which is why Arthur was sure Merlin must have been an exception. He was lazy and never arrived on time - today was the perfect example of that - but he was still the prince’s servant.)

 

The guest that the king had invited to Camelot was Kaunos — a young but very effective witchfinder from Northumbria. Even if they’d never heard of him before, every servant who came into the throne room was honored to be there.

 

Oh, except one of course.

 

 _That idiot_ , Arthur cursed in his head _again_. Of course he wasn’t here. Why would he care about his duties? After all, this was _Merlin._ And he’s never been able to do his job before so why should he care now?

 

But seriously, did he leave Arthur on the meeting alone on purpose? Because it was _boring_ as hell and Arthur longed to do literally anything else and be anywhere but here. Being back in his chambers with Merlin was the most pleasant option.

 

He’d never met Kaunos, only heard about him a few times on his travels. There wasn’t much to hear though. He was very young, only about two years older than Arthur himself, and he’d only helped a king to find sorcerers twice. Both times he was surprisingly successful despite his age and the expected lack of experience.

 

“You’ll start your work tomorrow,” Uther said, bringing Arthur back to reality. He was sitting beside his father on the other throne. The only throne left empty was the one that belonged to Morgana.

 

“Of course, my lord.” Kaunos bowed and smiled up at Arthur and the king. All the ladies and lords in the throne room couldn’t keep their eyes off Kaunos. He was charming and kind to everyone around him.

 

“I’ll give you a tour around the castle,” Uther continued. “After all, we should get to know each other.”

 

Kaunos bowed again. “It would be my pleasure.”

 

Uther nodded at the guards at the end of the room. They opened the door and everyone started leaving; Arthur stood up as quickly as he could, eager to find his idiotic servant.

 

“Arthur,” Uther stopped him. His expression showed that he knew exactly what Arthur had in mind, and he was not pleased. “I’d like you to get to know Kaunos, too.”

 

“Sire,” Kaunos bowed to the prince with another nice smile. But Arthur couldn’t think about anything than the fact that Merlin _wasn’t_ there with them.

 

“Of course, father,” replied Arthur, forcing a pleasant expression upon his face.

 

“Kaunos will be taking the chambers next to yours.”

 

“You can visit me any time you wish, sire,” Kaunos offered, still maintaining that wide smile. “I imagine you come to contact with magic quite often on your travels. Not everyone in this world is as honest and just as we are, am I correct?”

 

Arthur could only concentrate on the way Kaunos’ expression flickered to disgust for a second as he said the word _magic._

 

“I do - I’ve had to fight creatures of magic even inside these walls,” Arthur replied, purposely mentioning magic again so that the annoyingly charitable smile Kaunos wore would disappear, even if just for a moment.

 

It really was the only interesting part of this entire morning. (Except for Merlin’s smile as he handed him the vest - Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about _that._ )

 

“That won’t be a problem anymore,” Uther patted Kaunos’ shoulder good-naturedly. “I’ve heard about your work in king Rodor’s kingdom, Nemeth.”

 

“Well,” Kaunos smiled, “that wasn’t as easy as people might make it sound, my lord, but I believe my work here in Camelot will be just as successful as in the stories that you’ve heard.”

 

“I’m sure they’re more than stories.”

 

Uther seemed happier than usual, considering Morgana was still missing. Perhaps Kaunos’ arrival brought his hope back?

 

“Father, if I could be excused?” Arthur simply couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to return to his chambers, find Merlin there, ask him where the hell he’d been and then give him some extra chores so he would need to stay with him in his chambers even longer.

 

After Uther gave him the permission to leave, Arthur bowed to Kaunos again and hurried from the throne room.

 

He would give Merlin as many chores as he could to ensure the servant stayed with him in the chambers all day. Arthur could keep an eye on him that way, and he wouldn’t even care that Merlin ignored his chores and only did half of them.

 

Arthur sped up as he entered another hall, where he could finally see the doors to his chambers. He could almost see himself standing inside and looking at that idiot. Merlin would then tell him that he’d found another rat and wanted to take care of it before the meeting and that he simply hasn’t caught the rodent yet. And Arthur wouldn’t care what the reason behind his absence was anyway.

 

All he really cared about was that Merlin was alright.

 

So when he opened the door and walked inside only to find the chambers completely empty, the first thing he felt was an increasing unease. But then he forced it away, thinking that Merlin was probably with Gaius, helping him with someth- but Gaius had been in the throne room with everyone else.

 

“Merlin?”

 

Arthur looked around, his unease returning. Wait, he could be in the tavern! At this time of the day though -and after he’d promised that he’d be there to meet Kaunos with him? He was an idiot with almost no survival instincts, but surely he didn’t want to see Arthur _that_ angry and disappoint him _that_ much?

 

As Arthur stepped farther into the room, his gaze finally landed on his working desk.

 

There was a letter there, with a nicely curved Arthur’s name on the front of the envelope.

 

Arthur froze - it was Merlin’s handwriting.

 

After closing the door, he walked over to the table. He carefully picked up the letter and sat down on his bed, tracing his thumb over his name written in the dark blue ink. What could have Merlin possibly wanted to tell him in a letter?

 

With the unsettling feeling inside him growing into something like fear, Arthur opened the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

 

_Dear Arthur,_

 

_You’re probably wondering why I chose to tell you this through a letter and not in person. Well, that’s because if I wanted to tell you in person, I’d have to march in to the meeting and I’m guessing you wouldn’t like that at all. And neither would your father._

 

_I’m truly sorry, but I had to leave Camelot._

 

_It’s really fascinating how many things can change in only a few minutes, but that’s exactly what happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Kaunos arrived and I’m sorry that you’ll have to manage without me in the next couple of days, but I’ll come back eventually._

 

 _This isn’t forever. I_ will _come back. I promise._

 

_Goodbye Arthur._

 

_Merlin_

 

 

 

 

 

Gaius had just returned home from the meeting when someone opened his door without knocking. It was Arthur - of course it was Arthur.

 

“Gaius!”

 

“My lord,” Gaius bowed to him, trying to look as if nothing was wrong. But he knew why Arthur was there - he surely must have noticed Merlin’s absence by now. But sadly, Gaius had nothing to tell him. He couldn’t risk Merlin’s secret only because Arthur was angry.

 

He had to lie.

 

“Where is he?” Arthur asked as expected, walking closer to the old physician until he was standing right in front of him. “Why did he have to leave Camelot? What happened?”

 

That took Gaius by a surprise, which he expressed by raising his eyebrow. He didn’t expect Arthur to know that Merlin had _left_ Camelot. But as Gaius soon noticed, the prince was holding a folded piece of paper - Merlin must have written him a letter then. Of course he would do that. He wouldn’t just leave Arthur without letting him know.

 

But that meant that the lie Gaius had prepared about Merlin being in the tavern was useless now.

 

“I’m sorry, Arthur. I can’t tell you.”

 

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?” Arthur didn’t look pleased with Gaius’ answer at all.

 

“Arthur,” Gaius tried to sound sympathetic, “there are certain things that Merlin has to do alone. And I promised I wouldn’t tell you about them.”

 

“What could he _possibly_ be hiding from me?”

 

It hurt Gaius to see Arthur this angry. Because behind that anger was saddness and Gaius knew that. He could see right through him, through both him and Merlin. He’d known Arthur ever since he was a little boy, after all - and right now, all he could see was Arthur’s need to be assured that Merlin hadn't left _him._

 

“I’m sure he’ll tell you once he comes back.” Gaius knew that wasn’t likely to happen, but it was what Arthur needed to hear now.

 

“When will he come back then?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“What does he expect me to do when he’s not here?” Arthur turned abruptly, starting to pace. “Should I find a new servant? I-” Gaius knew exactly what Arthur wanted to say - that he didn’t want a new servant. Merlin has always been more than just a servant to him; he was his best friend as well. And even though Arthur didn’t like showing it much, it was easily noticeable just by the way they acted around each other, the way they talked to each other . . .

 

“Sire, you will simply have to wait. It won’t be long, I promise.” Gaius lied again to reassure him that Merlin would return to him, but Arthur only shook his head and let out a humorless scoff.

 

Without saying anything else, he left Gaius’ quarters.

 

Once more, Gaius found himself alone in an empty room without his favourite person in the world to occupy it, and with a broken heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

All Arthur could think about as he was leaving Gaius’ chambers was the letter. How could Merlin have just left him like that? And where did he go? And why didn’t he want Arthur to know the reason? Did he really not care about Arthur at all? Was everything that Arthur saw between them a lie?

 

He took a deep breath and hurried down the stairs that led to the tower where Gaius and Merlin lived, taking the steps two at a time and swiftly entering the courtyard.

 

But still, how could Merlin have just left him like that? He couldn’t have known that he’d be leaving when he was in Arthur’s chambers that morning. He seemed . . . _fine_ then. He even gave him that vest so Arthur wouldn’t freeze to death . . . Did Merlin even have anything other than his thin clothes with him? He never cared much about himself and paid more attention to others.

 

Arthur sighed in frustration. He looked up to see if anyone heard him, but all he saw was the courtyard full of people in warm clothes, minding their own business. And no Merlin.

 

Still looking around the courtyard, he noticed Gwen. Gwen and Merlin were good friends! He must have told her why he was leaving, right? But then - why would he tell her and not him?

 

“Gwen!” Arthur called her name. She was walking away from him towards the stairs to the castle, but when she heard him, she turned around and smiled.

 

“Sire,” she bowed slightly. She was holding an empty basket.

 

Arthur went straight to the point. “Did you by any chance see Merlin this morning?”

 

Her smile disappeared almost instantly. “Yes,” she nodded. Arthur’s eyes filled with hope. “He was on his way to your chambers, I believe. He had a backpack on his shoulders and he . . . he looked like he’d been crying.”

 

Upon hearing that, Arthur froze – he felt like a dagger had been driven into his heart. Merlin was crying? Was he crying because he had to leave Camelot or was he crying because of that unknown reason behind his disappearance?

 

“Did he say anything?” Arthur asked her almost desperately.

 

“He only asked me not to follow him,” Gwen answered. “He hugged me and then ran away . . . Arthur, what’s going on?” Her eyes clearly showed that she was worried.

 

Arthur swallowed as he prepared his answer. “Merlin- . . . He's left Camelot.”

 

“What?” Gwen’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her free hand. “Why?”

 

“That’s what I don’t know,” Arthur sighed and closed his eyes briefly. “He left me only with a letter, but he didn’t explain anything. He only said he’d return as soon as he could.”

 

“And when do you think that’ll be?”

 

“I don’t know, Gwen,” he shrugged. “Not even Gaius wanted to tell me.”

 

Gwen frowned at that. “Merlin looked really upset when I saw him,” she continued. “But he didn’t want me to follow him.”

 

“I made no such promise,” Arthur said.

 

“Do you want to go after him?”

 

“Maybe,” Arthur nodded. “Probably. I don’t know yet.” He knew he couldn’t stay in Camelot and just wait though.

 

They started walking towards the castle together. Arthur was still holding the letter in his hand, but he hid it inside his pocket. For some reason, he didn’t want anyone to see it.

 

“Perhaps something happened to his mother,” Gwen suggested as they went up the stairs together.

 

Arthur hadn’t thought about that. “Maybe.”

 

“Well, I have to go,” Gwen smiled at him and bowed again when she saw that they both headed in different ways. “I hope he’s safe and okay.”

 

“Me too,” he nodded.

 

“And good luck, my lord.”

 

Arthur nodded and attempted to return the smile. Then he left, on his way back to his chambers.

 

It would make sense if Hunith was ill or wounded – or worse, dying. He knew Merlin and from his brief encounter with his mother two years ago, he knew that she loved her son just as much as Merlin loved her. That boy would stop at nothing to get to her as soon as he could if she was bedridden.

 

Arthur sighed and was turning another corridor to get to his chambers when he suddenly spotted his father with Kaunos. He cursed under his breath as Uther looked up, noticing him.

 

“My lord,” Arthur forced his lips into a smile as he approached. “Kaunos.”

 

“My pleasure to meet you again, sire,” Kaunos bowed.

 

“Arthur,” Uther told him, “Please show Kaunos to his prepared chambers.” He turned to Kaunos and continued, “Unfortunately, as king, I have other duties.”

 

“I understand, my lord.” Kaunos bowed and when Uther left them alone, he turned to Arthur with a smile. “Camelot is indeed a very beautiful place.”

 

“It is.” Arthur wasn’t really in the mood to talk about anything with Kaunos right now. But his chambers and Kaunos’ were right next to each other, which meant they were going the same way and conversation was inevitable.

 

“May I ask, how was the castle built?”

 

“Here,” Arthur showed him the way and as they began walking, he cleared his throat and answered. “It’s been standing for many decades and there are many stories about how it was built. One of them says that a powerful sorcerer helped build it. His name was Cornelius Sigan.”

 

“I’ve heard about him.”

 

As Arthur expected, Kaunos’ smile disappeared as soon as the topic of their conversation turned to magic.

 

“Most people believe it’s only a story, although-”

 

“Oh, no, he existed,” Kaunos interrupted him. “He’s mentioned in many books that I’ve read and they all say the same - his power drove him mad. That’s what magic does to people.”

 

“My father shares your opinion.” Arthur nodded, but couldn’t help but sigh silently.

 

“You don’t?”

 

Arthur . . . hadn’t really thought about that. “I do,” he eventually answered, although he wasn’t sure. Most of the sorcerers he’d met were evil and eager to kill him or destroy Camelot. But there were times when he’d seen magic help people too.

 

“Well, I hope I can count on you if I find trouble during my work then,” Kaunos smiled.

 

They were almost near his chambers, and Arthur was counting the seconds until they reached that door. He really wanted to leave and be alone.

 

“According to what we’ve all heard about you, I’m sure there won’t be any trouble.”

 

Kaunos laughed at that. “Let’s hope so.”

 

As soon as he said that, they entered the corridor with the doors to Kaunos’ chambers at the end and Arthur’s right next to them.

 

“These are your rooms,” said Arthur, opening the doors for him with a smile.

 

“Thank you,” Kaunos nodded as he stepped inside, then turning to Arthur before the prince could walk away. “I look forward to getting to know you more, sire.”

 

“Likewise,” Arthur smiled. “Well, enjoy your new home.”

 

“I will.”

 

And with that, Kaunos closed the door and Arthur turned away from him, finally going back to his own chambers. He slipped his hand into his pocket and palpated the letter, closing his eyes briefly as his smile turned into a frown.

 

He didn’t know what had caused Merlin to leave as abruptly as he'd done. He couldn’t even be sure that it was really about Hunith. But he knew what he had to do. He’d follow Merlin and find him, telling him that he was an idiot and then offering him help, whatever it was that Merlin needed.

 

Merlin should know that Arthur was more than willing to help him with his mother. And if it wasn’t about his mother and it was something else . . .

 

Well, Merlin had been there for Arthur before. So why shouldn’t Arthur be there for him?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving into a different kingdom, different city and a different castle was always a challenge, but Kaunos was sure these white walls would feel like home to him soon enough. He knew that he shouldn’t get too attached to anyone though because with his kind of job, any of these people could end up on the pyre the next day.

 

The king seemed like a wise man, but he _feared_ magic. Magic shouldn’t be feared, not if one had the right knowledge, which Kaunos of course had. It was his job after all. And the prince? A charming young man, but he didn’t seem as fierce as his father. He was still young though. Only a few years younger than Kaunos himself.

 

Kaunos sighed and without further ado, he got to work. He found his belongings beside his bed just like he’d expected. He didn’t own much, but it was probably more than any commoner. He only had a few pieces of clothing to wear, but he didn’t worry about that. The king was kind enough to have clothes made for him.

 

What he cherished the most, however, was books. He owned many of them, and all of them were about magic. He didn’t practice it himself, no - he’d never been cursed with its power. But in order to defeat magic, one must fully understand it. Besides, most of these books were full of information about one thing that mattered the most to him - the prophecy.

 

Ever since he lost his parents to magic and had to live with the druids, he’d heard about the old mighty prophecy. About the most powerful sorcerer to ever be – Emrys - and the Once and Future King. Together they’d unite the lands of Albion and magic would once again be free . . .

 

Kaunos could never allow that to happen.

 

Magic was evil and it spread like a disease. He'd promised himself years ago that he’d rid the world of it. And after learning so much from the druids and from his precious books, he knew what he had to do first.

 

Find Emrys. That man was supposed to be _magic itself,_ whatever that was supposed to mean. He had to be destroyed. Once he found out who this Emrys was, Kaunos would kill him without hesitation.

 

After that was done and magic was still in the world, he’d continue onward and leave Camelot to find the Crystal Cave. According to his book on the origins of the Old Religion, this very cave was the source of magic in the world. And just like Emrys, it needed to be destroyed.

 

Kaunos smiled as he picked up his new book – it was completely blank. He’d use that to write down any information on Emrys in Camelot that he found. Camelot was a place where magic was forbidden, and yet it was the place most cursed with it. It was everywhere - Kaunos could almost feel it.

 

And Uther had no idea.

 

Or maybe he did – he'd asked Kaunos to come here, after all.

 

Kaunos took all of his books and put them on his new table, turning around to look at the empty shelves that were in front of his desk. He’d need to put the books there in some order - should he sort them alphabetically? Or perhaps based on the amount of knowledge they possessed? Or the importance? Thickness?

 

He sighed and looked at the books on the table and then at the empty shelves again. This would take a lot of work. But he had time.

 

Before he started though, he wanted to take a look at his new chambers. The fire in the hearth was already burning, allowing him to remove his coat. He stepped to the window and peered through the glass, looking outside. He could see the courtyard, the gate and the towers, with the hills far in the distance.

 

He had a great view. His window was quite high above the ground, but he could still see and sometimes recognize the people. Well, at least one of them - the prince.

 

Kaunos frowned as he looked down at him. Arthur was heading for the stables. Kaunos knew that because Uther had shown him where the stables were. But seeing Arthur down there, choosing a horse and then inevitably heading to the gate brought up two questions in his mind:

 

Why was the prince leaving Camelot alone? And where was he going?

 

In the end, Kaunos decided that it was none of his business and returned to the table, folding his arms on his chest and wondering what would be the best order for his books on the shelves.

 

A knock on the door interrupted him just as he was picking up the first book. He put it back on the table and cleared his throat. “Come in.”

 

The door opened and a young serving girl stepped into the room.

 

“Oh, hello,” he smiled at her.

 

“Good morning, sire,” she bowed to him.

 

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” he widened his smile as he neared her, “Just _Kaunos_ is fine. I’m not used to titles.”

 

She smiled at him again but didn’t reply to that. Instead, she revealed a little purse hanging on her tiny belt, untied it and handed it to him. He accepted it with a curious smile. “The king sends you this.”

 

“Really?” Kaunos opened the purse and looked inside, his light smile turning into a grin. It was the ink that he’d asked the king to give him! He really needed that for his notebooks. “Thank you, ehm-”

 

“Mauri.”

 

“Thank you, Mauri,” he smiled at her and she bowed again, leaving the room.

 

Kaunos closed the door behind her and put the little brown purse on the table, opening it wider. There were four kinds of inks.

 

A standard black ink that he used to write down anything that he needed.

 

Green ink for people who he’d already checked and were innocent.

 

Blue ink for suspicious people that he wanted to keep an eye on.

 

And red ink for sorcerers that he’d successfully found and delivered to the king, who usually sentenced them to death.

 

These four colours allowed him to keep everything in order so that he wouldn't forget about anything important. And he couldn’t wait until he could start going from house to house, writing down everyone’s names and beginning his search. All but one name - Gaius. Uther had told him a little about the old physician and he’d made it clear that Gaius was to be excused from all of this.

 

One thing was clear though. There was a sorcerer somewhere in Camelot and he knew it. He just needed to find him or her and get rid of them so the kingdom could be saved.

 

 

 

 

This was surely the worst day of Merlin’s life in Camelot so far. He’d never had to leave Arthur behind like this, not this quickly and with only a letter as a goodbye. He had thought that he’d stay with him forever, not leave him because living in Camelot turned out to be more dangerous than he’d expected. He was used to danger. But he wasn’t used to being without Arthur, not like this, when he didn’t even know for how long.

 

He had to be strong though. For Arthur.

 

Merlin brushed away the tears that rolled down his cheek - it was too cold and the wind was blowing in his face, but that wasn't the only reason. Pursing his lips, Merlin came to a halt and slowly turned around.

 

One last look at Camelot.

 

He was staying at the edge of the forest, with the blindingly white castle in perfect view from there. It looked so small from the distance . . . He could still see the towers though, and also the gate, the Lower Town, the citadel . . . He’d miss that place a lot. Arthur was there right now, somewhere - alone. Merlin felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He wished so much to see Arthur again and apologize - even if he'd had no other choice but to leave. Just like he had to do now.

 

It was time to go.

 

He took a deep breath and turned away, closing his eyes. Slowly, he started to walk away, but couldn’t help but glance back at the castle again. At his home.

 

When he heard an owl howl in the distance, he took that as a sign and finally turned away for good. He set off at a quick pace down the well-worn footpath through the forest, hoping that the wind wouldn't get any stronger than it already was. He didn’t have anywhere to hide and he didn’t have anything besides his unfinished breakfast and two apples to eat either - which meant he had to find something to eat and a place to hide, like a village, soon.

 

It had already been a few hours since he left.

 

He was sure that Arthur had read the letter by now. And he was probably angry with him because he’d promised to be at the meeting. At first, Arthur must have thought Merlin was late again. But once he got back to his chambers, finding only a stupid letter in Merlin’s stead without an explanation, he must have been furious.

 

For a moment, Merlin regretted not staying long enough to say goodbye to Arthur in person. But that wouldn’t have been as easy as it was with Gwen. He couldn’t just ask Arthur not to follow him, he’d have to list at least ten good reasons for why he was leaving and he really didn’t have any. He didn’t even have a lie to tell Arthur - he didn’t want to lie about his mother being ill, she didn’t deserve that.

 

But Gaius had remained in Camelot and he’d surely come up with something to tell Arthur about Merlin's whereabouts. Preferably not the tavern. Arthur would never believe that Merlin got lost in the tavern for three weeks - or however long it took him to get back to Camelot.

 

The wind picked up again and Merlin cursed – and thanks to the increasing gale, he couldn't even hear the words. With a frustrated sigh, he rolled up the collar of his jacket, grabbed the corners of his sleeves and covered as much of his hands as he could, leaving out only his pointy fingers to hold the sleeves in place. Then he folded his arms on his chest, letting his jacket cover his stomach and hips as well. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had until he found a place shielded from the wind, where he could start a fire.

 

Staying in Camelot for another day didn’t seem like such a bad idea now, no matter how dangerous it might have been. Having to close his eyes against the wind, cheeks stinging as he froze to death, wasn't what he'd expected.

 

Another hour later, he was still in the forest and nothing had really changed. He didn’t know any spell that would stop the wind or warm his hands and he didn’t want to risk using spells he wasn’t familiar with, in case he set his only jacket on fire for example. So he gritted his teeth and continued walking.

 

He was broken out of the monotony suddenly – a strange noise sounded in the distance. He frowned and stopped walking, glancing around at his surroundings and finding nothing but trees. It was probably nothing - only the wind.

 

But then he heard it again. It sounded a lot like a whistle.

 

This time, he turned around suspiciously – he was sure it wasn't just the wind.

 

“Look at what we got here,” someone said. A malicious voice.

 

There were about ten men standing around him, each holding a weapon of some kind, ranging from a long sword to a little dagger. Merlin’s eyes widened, taking in their scruffy appearances and hard eyes.

 

 _Bandits_.

 

 

 


	3. The Search

“Um,” said Merlin nervously, uncomfortable. He hadn’t prepared himself for any company, he really hadn’t - and certainly not for ten men who looked like they wanted to kill him and take all of his belongings. “Hello.” He smiled at them and waved his hand.

 

“You look lost, young man,” one of the bandits said, but Merlin tried to ignore him. He found himself glancing around the area, trying to come up with an idea of what to do – how he could save himself and what he might be able to use as an advantage.

 

Because the only advantage Merlin had right now was that he was alone - Arthur wasn’t with him, and therefore he could openly use magic in his defense. He liked to think that he had good practice in that, seeing as how he'd had to save Arthur's ass in situations like this practically every day for the past three years.

 

Of course, he didn’t want to use magic unless it was truly necessary. In this situation though? It was almost inevitable - he didn’t have any other weapons on him. And he didn’t have the time to find any suitable spell for this situation in his spellbook – once again, he would have to rely on spells that he already knew how to use.

 

So stunning spells it was.

 

Merlin dropped his innocent persona and straightened, trying to look threatening – an attempt that failed almost immediately as the bandits started laughing. “I’m not lost,” he told them defiantly.

 

“We don’t really care,” said another bandit, pursing his lips.

 

The wind was still blowing hard and after a moment's quick thinking, Merlin unfolded his arms from his chest and closed his hands into fists. He felt the change immediately - his chest felt too cold and so did his bare hands. The weather really wasn’t that nice today.

 

“You should really think twice before you try to hurt me.”

 

“Oh, look at him!” The first bandit - probably the leader of the group - smirked as he turned to the rest of his men. “He’s trying to sound dangerous now.”

 

Okay, Merlin didn’t appreciate being mocked. He could tolerate that from Arthur, but not from these men who didn’t even know who they were talking to.

 

“I’m serious.” Merlin knew he shouldn’t use magic because he was still in Camelot - and since the bandits had already seen his face, it was even a worse idea to use magic against them. But Merlin really didn’t want to die and if they found his spellbook, they’d know he was a sorcerer anyway.

 

No, Merlin needed to be clever for this.

 

And then he got an idea. He got a chance to try it out the very next second, just as one of the bandits tightened his grip on his sword and started getting dangerously close to him.

 

“Oh my god!” Merlin yelled at the top of his lungs and pointed behind the leader, quickly ducking and dropping to the ground. To his surprise, the leader of the group along with the rest of the bandits all quickly looked where Merlin had pointed, and in that moment, Merlin touched the ground with his palm and whispered, “ _Ic the bebode thaet thu astrice!_ ”

 

All of the bandits flew away from him at once, hitting the ground or trees and staying there, not moving. They weren’t dead, but they were unconscious and once they woke up, hopefully they wouldn’t remember what happened or wouldn’t think it was he who'd used magic on them. He did try to _warn_ them just before the spell, didn’t he? Maybe they’d think someone had found them and knocked all of them out . . .

 

But that wasn’t one of Merlin’s concerns right now. He had to disappear before they woke up and saw him. He grinned to himself and then quickly shoved his cold fingers under his armpits again, turning away from them and continuing to walk, this time faster.

 

He was proud of that spell. He hadn't even been sure that it would work, to be completely honest. He'd been trying to study his spellbook more seriously lately, and that included new spells that he hadn’t had the chance to use yet.

 

This spell was among them. The fact that it had worked on the bandits made Merlin think that maybe his destiny wasn’t wrong. Maybe he really was supposed to be a very powerful sorcerer one day. Not yet, that was absurd - he was still young and didn’t have enough experience, but one day.

 

After about an hour of fast traveling on foot, the wind became gentler and Merlin was happy to find a cave. True, it was fairly tiny - but it was already almost dark and he was very, _very_ cold. And hungry. He’d already ate the rest of his breakfast, and one of the apples as a lunch.

 

So once he made sure there wasn’t anyone nearby who’d try to disrupt him and steal his things again, he entered the tiny cave and sat down on the hard stone ground.

 

“Finally,” he mumbled. With a twist of his wrist and a simple “ _Forbearnan,_ ” he started a little fire from the twigs he'd gathered while walking. As soon as that was done, he reached out his hands towards the red flames and closed his eyes. He felt the warmth spreading from his fingertips to his forearms, causing his arms to tingle.

 

He sighed with a smile.

 

Next he opened his little backpack and drew out another tunic, pulling it over his old one so that he would get even warmer. He also found the last apple and ate it, satisfying his stomach that had been growling at him for most of the day anyway.

 

With nothing else to do and only sleep in his near future, he pulled his spellbook out from his backpack, opening it to the page where he’d left off the day before - elemental spells.

 

But before he could really get into it, he heard undeniable footsteps nearby.

 

His first instinct was to hide his spellbook – he stuffed it back into his bag immediately before hurrying to put out the fire. A moment later he was standing up, backing up deeper into the cave, his back hitting the stone wall behind him.

 

The footsteps started getting louder, and together with them he heard someone sigh loudly. “ _I can’t believe I’m actually doing this for that idiot._ ” The words were quiet, but it sounded an awful lot like-

 

“ _Mer_ lin!”

 

_Arthur._

 

“Oh no,” Merlin closed his eyes and sighed. This couldn’t be happening, right? How could he have followed him here? He even left a letter . . . Now that he was thinking about it, he probably should have made up a reason for him leaving - he should have lied to ensure that Arthur wouldn’t follow him. Because now, here he was!

 

“ _Mer_ lin! You may not know this, but I can actually track people and all those tracks you so carelessly left behind are really easy to follow!”

 

Merlin had to roll his eyes at that.

 

“Okay, okay, I’m here!” He called out, stepping out from the shadows of the cave to reveal himself, his gaze immediately finding Arthur in the gloom - oh my god, he even had a horse?

 

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur smiled as he jumped off the said horse and rushed towards him. But when he got closer, that smile turned into a frown. “What the hell were you thinking?” he asked, anger abruptly replacing the relief in his voice. “Why did you leave? Did you really think a _letter_ would stop me from following you?”

 

“Does that mean you care about me so much that you rode out in weather like this just to find me?” Merlin smirked at him, enjoying the expression that came across Arthur's face at his words.

 

“I’m responsible for you, Merlin,” he stated very seriously. “And you can’t just leave like that, not without permission.”

 

“Alright,” Merlin nodded. “So now that you’re here, do I have your permission to leave Camelot?”

 

Arthur, who'd been standing there with his arms folded stubbornly against his chest, now put his arms down again and shook his head firmly. “Not unless you give me a good reason to.”

 

So that was what Arthur wanted to hear. Just like Merlin had expected. Before he could make up a believable lie, Arthur’s expression softened.

 

“Did something happen to your mother?” he asked.

 

Oh, that was a great lie. Merlin still didn’t like the fact that it was his mother he was considering lying about, but he didn’t really have any options left and he hadn’t prepared another lie beforehand. So he simply nodded. “Yeah, she’s . . . She’s ill. I wanted to see her.”

 

“Merlin,” Arthur looked at him with sympathy in his eyes. “You should have told me that.”

 

Merlin shrugged at that. “I didn’t want you to worry. You have enough work to do with Kaunos and everything else in Camelot.”

 

“But this is your mother we’re talking about.” Arthur pursed his lips, walking closer to Merlin again, one hand still gripping his horse's reins. “I know she’s important to you, so she’s important to me too.” He smiled.

 

“Because I’m your _servant_ ,” Merlin raised his eyebrows as he folded his arms on his chest again.

 

Arthur pursed his lips a little and then nodded. “Exactly.” He seemed really convinced that Merlin believed him. “Now show me that cave you’ve found there, it’s cold out here. I can’t believe you left wearing only this,” he pointed at Merlin, looking up and down over his whole body. “You’ll freeze to death. Even the royal attire for Camelot servants would serve you better now.”

 

“It really wouldn’t. And I wanted to leave as soon as I could,” Merlin defended himself.

 

That seemed to silence Arthur for a second. “I can understand that,” he said simply.

 

Arthur tied the horse to a tree nearby and followed Merlin, who internally groaned - great, so Arthur intended to accompany him on his way to Ealdor, and that only meant that Merlin had to figure out a way to get rid of him before they reached the village. He couldn’t go there, it was too dangerous for his mother.

 

They entered the cave together and both sat down. Merlin hugged himself to feel warmer and as he looked at the still hot, scorched twigs on the ground in between them, he realized something - he didn’t have anything to start the fire with, without using his magic. He hadn’t thought about that, he just packed the most important things and left.

 

“Um, do you by any chance have a tinderbox on you?” Merlin asked awkwardly, hoping Arthur wouldn’t notice that the fire had been recently burning.

 

Arthur looked up at Merlin with eyes ridiculously wide, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “What were you thinking when you left Camelot? Do you only know how to pack my things when we leave the castle?”

 

“I forgot.” Merlin rolled his eyes.

 

“You _forgot?_ ”

 

Merlin really didn’t know why Arthur was making such a big deal out of this. Arthur himself thought that Merlin forgot everything he ever told him, so why would he be surprised that Merlin didn’t have a tinderbox? (Especially since he had thought he’d be alone here and could use his magic to do simple things - like start a fire, for example.)

 

“You also forget things, you know? Like this morning. You forgot you had to meet Kaunos in the throne room and be there early. I didn’t forget that.”

 

“You really shouldn’t talk to a prince like that, Merlin.”

 

“You don’t act like a prince most of the time, so I’m sorry I so often _forget_ that.”

 

Arthur sighed at that and closed his eyes. “You really are lucky I’m here,” he said as he stood up with a grunt and went to fetch the tinderbox from his saddlebag. “Without me, you wouldn't have survived anywhere near this long.”

 

“Hm, likewise,” Merlin mumbled under his breath. Arthur didn’t seem to hear him.

 

When he returned, Arthur started the fire himself before storing the tinderbox back into the saddlebag that he’d brought into the cave with him. Then he reached deeper into the bag and pulled out an apple. “Hungry?” He smiled at Merlin.

 

Merlin said nothing, surprised. This was one of the moments that he didn’t have any doubts that Arthur truly cared about him. It gave Merlin a warm and glowy feeling inside, despite the fire that was still far too small.

 

“I figured that since you forgot the tinderbox, you’d forget to bring more food than just your breakfast and maybe an apple as well.”

 

Merlin chuckled at that silently. Even though Arthur didn’t know his secret, he really did know him. “Thanks,” Merlin accepted the apple - it looked a tiny bit bruised - and took a bite. “It’s good,” he nodded at Arthur.

 

“Of course it is,” Arthur smirked. “It’s the one you offered me for breakfast.”

 

Merlin quickly swallowed so he wouldn’t spit it out and coughed. Of course it was _that_ apple. Shocking – Arthur was, after all, still a prat.

 

“So I guess it really did fall down all those stairs, huh?” Arthur laughed.

 

“Well, it’s still good to eat, so _your_ loss,” Merlin smirked at him in return and polished the apple with his tunic. Then he took another bite - he really was hungry, and now they both needed as much food as they could get.

 

Arthur then fished out another apple from his bag and took a bite, shrugging at Merlin. The warlock only rolled his eyes.

 

This was what being a friend with Arthur was like. But Merlin wouldn’t change a thing. He'd fallen in love with him just as he was - a royal prat with a good heart.

 

After they both finished their apples, Arthur informed Merlin that he’d also brought bread, some dried meat, and cheese for the next few days. Then he handed Merlin a waterskin and they both took a sip.

 

After a while, Merlin noticed Arthur was eyeing him suspiciously. “What is it?” he asked eventually, when the awkward silence and Arthur’s stare became unbearable.

 

“I have a question for you,” he said as he leaned forward. “I’ve followed your tracks all the way here and . . . I came across a group of bandits, all lying unconscious . . . in a _circle_.” Merlin’s heart skipped a beat when he heard that. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

 

“Me? No,” Merlin lied and looked down. He really wasn’t a good liar. The only lie he'd become good at was pretending he didn’t have magic - but he hadn’t prepared himself for this. “It must have happened after I went through the valley.”

 

Arthur’s eyes narrowed even more. “I didn’t say it happened in a valley,” he pointed out.

 

Oh shit. Merlin had made yet another mistake. Oh shit. What should he do?

 

He only shrugged. “Where else would there be enough space for bandits to lie in a circle? I've only traveled through the forest and one small valley so far.”

 

_Can this lie work? Please? . . ._

 

Arthur sighed and swallowed. “Merlin, I know when you’re lying to me,” he said, clearing his throat.

 

_. . . It couldn’t._

 

At least Arthur had been waiting to talk about this only after making sure that Merlin was warm and had had some food and water.

 

There really wasn’t any getting out of this.

 

“You really don’t.” Merlin simply answered.

 

That made Arthur frown. “Do you lie to me often?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then tell me how you could have possibly handled over ten grown men on your own.”

 

“I didn’t,” Merlin shrugged again. But he could already feel his heart beating faster. He had to make up another lie and _fast._

 

“Except that I know you did. I heard you yell something from the same direction where I later found the bandits,” Arthur pressed.

 

Oh shit. He wouldn’t stop, would he?

 

“How can you be sure it was me?” Merlin asked. “With all that wind, you could have possibly mistaken someone else’s voice for mine.”

 

“I’m a prince, I’m never wrong.”

 

What a great attitude. “Of course you’re not,” Merlin mumbled. “Maybe it was the wind,” he said aloud. But that wasn’t the best explanation for Arthur’s question.

 

“How stupid do you think I am?” snapped Arthur, raising his voice with a scowl.

 

“Honestly?”

 

“Shut up, _Mer_ lin.”

 

Why were they always arguing?

 

“Now tell me how you managed to overpower them.”

 

“I thought you wanted me to shut up?” Merlin widened his eyes sarcastically, looking away from the prince.

 

“ _Mer_ lin.” There was a warning in Arthur’s voice - but also fear and doubt. There was really no possible answer other than magic, but even if that word was in Arthur’s mind, he didn’t want to say it - he probably didn’t even want to hear it, but he’d never suggest it himself, so he wanted Merlin to tell him. And Merlin hated that, but he wasn’t going to give up; he couldn’t tell Arthur. If he did, the Camelot he'd return to would never be the same as the one he'd left behind this morning. And he desperately wanted things to go back to normal.

 

“I’m stronger than I look,” replied Merlin eventually, grinning at Arthur. But judging by the prince's face, he really wasn’t in a mood for a joke right now. “Alright, okay, listen,” Merlin sighed and closed his eyes, still not finding any better lie. So in the end, he settled for: “I can’t tell you.”

 

“Then I order you to tell me,” said Arthur immediately.

 

“That really won’t make me tell you, sorry.” When did Merlin’s life stop being simple? “I didn’t do anything, okay?” he continued, trying to look as honest as he could. “I was just as surprised as you were when I found them.”

 

“So what you’re saying is that you had nothing to do with it.” Arthur’s eyes were still narrowed. He didn’t believe him, but he was probably scared of the alternative.

 

“That’s exactly what I just said,” Merlin nodded.

 

Arthur seemed to think about that, but Merlin knew he wasn’t stupid. Maybe he gave up though because he realized he wouldn’t get an answer from Merlin easily.

 

Before Arthur could say anything then, Merlin swallowed and changed the subject. “How did the meeting go?” It wasn’t a better thing to talk about, really. The reason he had to leave Camelot over a mistake that could lead Arthur to find out about his magic – the two options were hard to choose from. But since Arthur didn’t know Kaunos was the reason he had to leave, Merlin decided to talk about that.

 

Arthur sighed. “Just so you know, this isn’t the last time that I’ll be asking you about those bandits,” added Arthur stubbornly. Then he rolled his eyes and looked into the fire. “It went fine.”

 

“So . . . What’s Kaunos like?” It was a simple question. One that Merlin didn’t really want to have the answer for though - if he could talk about anything else, he would, but what options did he have left? He couldn’t possibly let Arthur know why he left Camelot.

 

“He’s nice, actually,” Arthur shrugged. “Remember the last Witchfinder? This one is like the opposite of him . . . And he’s not a sorcerer, I don’t think.”

 

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Merlin managed a smile, “at least he’ll do a good job in Camelot.” Merlin couldn’t believe how uncomfortable it was for him to talk about this. And that the new witchfinder was nice? _Please._

 

“He’ll definitely do a good job in Camelot,” Arthur agreed with him, not knowing that this would forever be the subject that they would not agree on. “I showed him to his chambers, and once he settles in, I’m sure he’ll find Camelot a great place to live.”

 

Wait. “What? What do you mean?”

 

Arthur paused in momentary confusion before continuing, taking a breath. “Oh - another thing we discussed at the meeting. Kaunos will be staying in Camelot.”

 

_What?_

 

“Merlin?” Arthur’s frown returned, but Merlin couldn’t force himself to respond. He was frozen, too _still_. He didn’t know what to say or what to do . . . he and Gaius had been wrong after all.

 

He wouldn’t be returning to Camelot in a few days or weeks.

 

He wouldn't be returning to Camelot - _at all_.

 

And Merlin couldn’t take that.

 

“ _Mer_ lin?” Arthur stood up and waved his hand in front of Merlin’s face, an incredulous look on his face. That seemed to wake Merlin up.

 

He blinked and looked up at Arthur. “Kaunos isn’t leaving Camelot?” He couldn’t help but ask. It wasn’t exactly subtle, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care.

 

“No, he said he'd always dreamt of having a life here. He's spent most of his years traveling.” Arthur explained, not really understanding why Merlin was acting the way he was. He squinted, peering suspiciously at Merlin. “Are you alright?”

 

Merlin tried to give him a smile. “Is that concern I hear in your voice?” That should shut Arthur up for a while.

 

And of course it did. Arthur pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. “It definitely wasn’t,” he replied.

 

Merlin only nodded and stared into the flames, trying to fight back tears. Kaunos wasn’t just preventing him from staying with Arthur in Camelot for a few weeks, which would have been fine . . . mostly. Now he was standing in the way of Merlin’s entire destiny, his life, his _everything._ He couldn’t just pack his things and stay away from Camelot forever, that was unthinkable.

 

He had to be with Arthur, he _needed_ to be with him – because life without him . . . that was no life at all. And Arthur? He needed to stay in Camelot. He was the prince after all, destined to be a great king. But would he become a king if Merlin wasn’t there with him? Merlin had to believe that he would.

 

What else did he have left to do?

 

Maybe he could find some way to protect Arthur from the forest. But he couldn’t live in the forests forever, he’d have to find some village, and not Ealdor - they would find him there, if they ever became suspicious. And he couldn’t just stay in Camelot in a disguise - first, for it to be a good disguise, he’d have to use magic, and second, he would never be able to hold such a spell for such a long time. Besides, he would still want to be near Arthur. And where would that lead him? He’d change his face and become Arthur’s manservant again, but things would never be the way that they were now – the way he wanted things to be.

 

Merlin sighed and only then he realized Arthur was talking to him.

 

“- and if we want to reach Ealdor as soon as we can, we’ll need to head East,” Arthur finished. Merlin couldn’t believe how much Arthur cared about him and his mother. If only he felt the same way that Merlin did . . .

 

“Okay,” replied Merlin, smiling up at him. He was glad to see Arthur return that smile - it might as well be the last smile he’d ever receive from Arthur. That thought was enough to break his heart.

 

“We only need to hope that the wind isn’t as strong as it was today,” Arthur added. “I packed some food for both of us and you can ride the horse with me . . . if you want,” he cleared his throat and looked away from Merlin.

 

Merlin couldn’t help but grin. Arthur’s cheeks looked a little pinker than usual - but that could have just been the fire and the cold air from earlier.

 

“That would be nice,” said Merlin with a smile, already feeling the tears in his eyes. “Thanks.”

 

Arthur only nodded.

 

About an hour later, the sun was already hidden behind the cliff that housed the cave Merlin had found. The last rays of sunlight just barely brushed the tops of the faraway trees on the horizon, the long shadows looking like dragon tails.

 

Arthur seemed to have forgotten about the bandits. Right now, he was lying beside the fire on his side, facing Merlin. His eyes were closed and he was snoring softly, the sound adding to the cracking of the fire between them.

 

Merlin realized that this was the first time he'd ever found Arthur’s snoring comforting instead of annoying. With that thought, the tears that he’d been holding finally spilled. He covered his mouth and closed his eyes, trying to be as silent as possible - he could _not_ wake Arthur.

 

This was the moment he had to decide.

 

If he continued with Arthur to Ealdor, the prince would soon find out that Merlin had been lying to him. He’d be angry, disappointed and he’d want to hear Merlin’s explanation – one that Merlin couldn’t give him.

 

If he . . . _left_ Arthur tonight, at least he’d have time to think of something. He . . . could go to the dragon for advice like he used to (but after he had attacked Camelot and Merlin’s father had died, he didn’t really trust the dragon anymore) and maybe, _maybe_ they could come up with a solution. But Arthur would feel abandoned and confused – and angry too. He’d probably think that Merlin had run away from him and would go searching for him in Ealdor. And Merlin wouldn’t be there.

 

Arthur would then return to Camelot and be forced to return to his normal life as prince, and then Merlin could hopefully see him from time to time - in disguise. That was the most plausible solution Merlin could think of at the moment. . . even if it would break both their hearts.

 

But one thing was certain - once Arthur woke up the next morning, Merlin wouldn’t be here. He’d have left the cave long ago.

 

With a heavy heart, Merlin brushed away his tears. He had to be strong, he needed to remember that. Trying to do so as silently as possible, he stood up and quickly packed up his things again.

 

He paused to stand there for a moment, above the fire and the sleeping Arthur – and in that moment, he felt more lonely than he'd ever felt before. He raised his hand and whispered a protection spell, “ _Grith fæstne mid thisse sawole, in fæstne gereste, min ætheling_.” He couldn’t just leave Arthur alone like this, especially not with the bandits that he’d met earlier.

 

And with one last look at Arthur’s peaceful face, Merlin turned around and once again disappeared into the forest.

 

 

  

 

 

 

It’s been a whole day and Gwen hasn’t seen Merlin at all. In fact, since that morning, she hasn’t seen Arthur either. She was sure that he'd gone to search for Merlin. He’d told her he hadn’t decided yet, but she knew the answer. They were inseparable, after all.

 

Ever since Morgana went missing, Gwen didn’t have much to do in the castle. She was still a maid, that was true, but instead of being there for Morgana and following her around the entire city (which had usually involved shopping and a lot of fun), she now only cleaned random chambers belonging to some lord or lady, or helped out in the kitchen or with the laundry. It wasn't enjoyable like it used to be, but it was still a job, and combined with the money she made as an occasional blacksmith, she made just enough to survive. Even though her best friend and lady was missing, for now she felt almost happy with her life.

 

But now – two more of her friends had seemingly disappeared. She missed them a lot already.

 

Gwen sighed and stepped away from the window. She was watching the street, and though there wasn’t much to see, at least she felt like she was among people. But as she pulled back the curtains and turned back to her little house, her responsibilities returned like the clouds that hid the sun.

 

She went back to her little kitchen and checked the watercress soup that she was cooking. It didn’t smell as great as she’d imagined, but she’d never had the opportunity to learn to cook from her mother - not after she'd died. Her father had taught her a little bit, just enough to keep them both fed, but he wasn’t the best cook in the world either. So now Gwen only counted on Mary, the royal cook, who let her watch as the kitchen staff worked from time to time.

 

Just as Gwen put out the fire under the pot, she heard a knock at the door. She frowned and stepped away from her soup. Could it be Merlin? Hope brought a smile to her face, but as she rushed to open the door she was met instead by someone she hadn't been expecting at all.

 

“My lord,” she bowed when she saw Kaunos. She hadn't been at the meeting to welcome him to Camelot - she had been helping with the cleaning of the castle chambers at the time, but she knew exactly who he was. He’d become quite popular in Camelot over the last few days, what with everyone anticipating his arrival.

 

“No need to call me that,” Kaunos smiled. “I’m Kaunos,” he added with a nod. Now that Gwen had the opportunity to look at him from close, she had to admit that he didn’t look like any other lords she’s met so far, apart from Arthur. Kaunos was treating her with kindness, just like the prince.

 

“Kaunos,” she bowed again. Her eyes wandered to the knights behind him and anxiety gripped her heart. One of them was Leon. She swallowed nervously, “May I ask, what brings you here? Of all places?”

 

“Well, I’m sorry,” he looked at a piece of paper that he was holding in his hand and narrowed his eyes, “Guinevere,” he said, “but I’m here to search your house. Don’t worry, the knights will try to be as gentle as they can, but you should understand that we need to be thorough. There is magic in Camelot and it needs to be eliminated.”

 

“Magic in Camelot?” Gwen frowned. The last time she was aware of magic in Camelot was probably when the great dragon had attacked the castle. It was a creature of magic, wasn't it?

 

“Yes,” Kaunos nodded. “You have been accused of using magic before, so we decided to take you first.” This was horrible news, but Kaunos was smiling the whole time in such a way that Gwen didn’t feel as scared as she normally would. She had nothing to hide, after all.

 

“Alright,” Gwen stepped away to let them all inside. What else was she supposed to do?

 

“I’m truly sorry, Gwen,” Leon whispered as he went past her. Gwen only nodded and tried to smile at him in return.

 

Kaunos turned around on the spot, looking at the poor house and counting the rooms. Then he nodded, “You two, go over there, you can search that room and you three stay here.” He gave orders as if he was born to do this. Then he turned to Gwen with a smile. “Have you been cooking? I smell something delicious.”

 

Gwen couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yes, in fact I have. Just now.” When she looked back at her room though, that smile disappeared. It was true that the knights weren’t as violent as they were with Aredian, the first witchfinder who came to Camelot almost a year ago, but they were still invading her privacy and she didn’t like it.

 

After roughly twenty minutes, the knights finished and left the house, Leon giving her another reassuring smile. Kaunos stayed behind. “Thank you for your cooperation. We haven’t found anything here, so you can relax and continue as if nothing happened.” He pulled out a quill from his pocket and a tiny bottle of blue ink. He used the wall of her house as a surface to write on and crossed out Gwen’s name.

 

Then he left.

 

Gwen looked around her house and sighed. Now she not only had to go back to the castle to help with the laundry, but she also had to take care of the new mess that the knights had made.

 

But before that, there was one thing that she had to do first - warn Gaius. He’d also been accused of sorcery before, and he'd almost burned for it. How would he feel if Kaunos visited him without any warning just like he did to her?

 

Gwen couldn't waste another moment. Glancing out her window to confirm that Kaunos had truly moved on, she quickly left her house and hurried up to the castle and to Gaius' tower. She could only hope that he was home.

 

Once she arrived there, she knocked on the door three times and then let herself in. Gaius had never had a problem with her entering his quarters like that before, and he didn’t have a problem with it now.

 

“Gwen,” said Gaius, smiling at the sight of her. Despite the smile, Gwen immediately noticed – something was wrong. He didn’t look as he usually looked, instead seeming . . . o _lder._ As if something serious was troubling him.

 

But she let that go, for now. “Gaius,” said Gwen hurriedly as she walked over to him. “Kaunos, the new Witchfinder, he’s just searched through my house.”

 

“So he's started his work already.” Gaius merely nodded.

 

“Yes, and he said . . . He said he wanted to check me first because I’ve already been accused of magic. That’s why I came here as soon as I could, I-”

 

“You were worried he’d go after me next,” Gaius finished for her. Gwen nodded. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that, my dear. Uther has given me an exception. Kaunos won’t come here for me.”

 

Just as Gwen let out a sigh of relief, there was a knock on the door.

 

And then, with a sudden spike of fear, it occurred to her - Kaunos couldn’t come here for Gaius, but he could come here for _Merlin_. Merlin was another person that Aredian had accused of sorcery.

 

Sure enough, as soon as Gaius called out, “Come in,” the door opened to reveal Kaunos standing there, that same smile on his face.

 

“Hello,” he greeted them pleasantly.

 

It was the same as before – Leon and the rest of the knights were standing behind Kaunos, who was already walking towards Gwen and Gaius. “Guinevere - and Gaius, the court physician,” he began, “pleasure to meet you.”

 

Gaius only nodded, unsmiling. “What are you doing here?” he asked. He didn’t sound happy at all and Gwen understood completely.

 

“Oh, I’m not here for you - I’m sure you know that,” Kaunos smiled at him. His eyes wandered away from them, towards Merlin’s little room at the back of the chambers. “But there is one other person who lives here, isn’t there? Sir Leon?”

 

“Merlin,” Leon confirmed.

 

“That’s right,” Kaunos lifted his finger to make them wait while he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his inside pocket. He skimmed through the lines until his finger stopped on a name. “Merlin, the prince’s personal servant. Accused of sorcery once and admitted to sorcery once also,” he read from the piece of paper, before looking up at Gwen and Gaius again.

 

When Gaius maintained his silence, Gwen had to ask - “When did Merlin admit to having magic?” She'd never heard about this before. She knew that Merlin had been the first person that Aredian had focused on before he took Gaius instead. But when had Merlin ever said that he had magic?

 

“I remember that,” Gaius sighed. He looked weary as he turned to Gwen. “He tried to sacrifice himself for you after you’d been accused of using magic to cure your father.”

 

“Yes,” Kaunos nodded before Gwen could say anything else. “Which is why he’s my main focus, just as Gwen here was. Now, Gwen has already proved to be innocent, so I just need the same for . . . Merlin.”

 

“He is innocent,” Gaius told him firmly.

 

“Merlin is the nicest person I know,” Gwen agreed fervently. “He wouldn’t hurt a fly. And he never puts himself before others.”

 

Kaunos narrowed his eyes. “Then let’s prove it, shall we?”

 

As soon as he said that, he continued farther into the room until he reached Merlin’s little chamber. Gaius and Gwen followed him, and after them came the knights. Only Leon looked apologetic.

 

Kaunos pointed at many things in the room and the knights began to work. They dug through the closet, turned the mattress in the bed upside-down to look under it, and even managed to find a loose parquet in the floor, under which a hollow space existed.

 

As Leon got down on his knees to peer underneath the bed, the room grew silent. Gwen held her breath as she watched Leon rise again, holding a strange staff in his hand. He looked just as surprised as she felt.

 

“What is it?” Leon asked as Kaunos took the staff away from him, examining it. He looked pleased and for the first time, Gwen felt like punching that smile off his face.

 

The staff was long and wooden with a large blue crystal adorning its crown. It had strange writing engraved all around it, partially hidden by a brown strap tied around it. Gwen had seen a similar staff only once in her life - when that girl, Sophia, and her father had visited Camelot after Arthur and Merlin had saved them.

 

“This is a Sidhe staff,” Kaunos told them. When he looked around at the knights, Gwen and Gaius, and saw that no one understood what he meant, he explained further. “It’s a magical staff that possesses the magic of the Sidhe . . . It can only be wielded by a strong sorcerer,” he added. When he brought the staff closer to his face, he read the writing on it with a smirk on his face. “ _Abas ocus bithe duthected bithlane_ , which means _To hold life and death in your arms._ Very interesting. But that is of course the entire nature of Sidhe’s greatest magic after all.”

 

“What does this mean?” Gwen asked, surprised to realize she had tears in her eyes. It couldn't be true – it was impossible to believe that Merlin might be a sorcerer, and that now he could be sentenced to death. But then- that might be the reason why he'd run away that morning . . .

 

Kaunos smiled at her. “This means that I’ve found the source of magic in Camelot! And I’m sure there will be more - this city is full of it. I’ve only just begun.”

 

“That staff isn’t Merlin’s.” Gaius interrupted his enthusiasm with the stubborn words. Everyone turned to look at him – Kaunos still wearing that terrible smirk on his face. Gaius straightened, pursing his lips. “It belongs to me.”

 

“And you hid it in your apprentice’s room? Under his _bed_?” Kaunos laughed. “Gaius, this might have worked with the previous Witchfinder, but your tricks won’t work with me. I already know the truth, and you can’t change that.”

 

Without another word, he strode out of the chambers, calling for the knights to follow him. Gwen turned to face the old physician once more – and in his expression, she found only regret and sorrow. Suddenly, she knew exactly what had been wrong earlier – what was so very wrong now.

 

“Gaius?” She asked hesitantly, the question clear in her teary eyes.

 

He only nodded. “Yes,” he said. “And now . . . they know about him, too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SPELLS**
> 
>  
> 
> \- _"Ic the bebode thaet thu astrice!"_ \- from Merlin 5x04 Another’s Sorrow, where Merlin uses this spell to cause an earthquake when he touches the ground in the cave. I used the first part of the spell _"Ic the bebode thaet thu"_ which means “I command you to” and changed the ending from _"abifiast nu"_ (=be shaken) to _"astrice"_ which is a simple stunning spell. It means “I strike” and it was used in episodes 1x13 Le Morte d’Arthur, 2x01 The Curse of Cornelius Sigan and 2x12 The Fires of Idirsholas.
> 
> \- _“Forbearnan”_ = a simple spell that means “Burn up” and was used in episodes 1x07 The Gates of Avalon, 2x03 The Nightmare Begins, 2x07 The Wtichfinder, 3x02 The Tears of Uther Pendragon Part Two, and 3x11 The Sorcerer’s Shadow. 
> 
> \- _"Grith fæstne mid thisse sawole, in fæstne gereste, min ætheling."_ \- my own spell, that should mean "Give protection to this soul, rest in protection, my prince". I used merlin.wikia.com/wiki/spells for this - 5x13 _“In Sibbe Gereste”_ (rest in peace) and 4x09 _“Grith fæstne mid thisse tintregedan sawole!”_ (Give Truce/peace/protection to this tormented soul!). + _"min ætheling"_ (my prince).


	4. The Angry King

The throne room was cold and lonely – or at least, it had been right until someone knocked on the door. Uther had been sitting in silence, reminiscing about his times with Morgana and trying to think of a forest, village, kingdom, _any_ place that he hadn’t searched through yet.

 

The person who had knocked was Kaunos, which Uther discovered as soon as the door opened.

 

“Kaunos,” he smiled at him, his doubts and worries temporarily leaving his mind. Kaunos bowed and Uther invited the man to speak with a curt nod.

 

“My lord,” Kaunos nodded, “I think I have found the first sorcerer in Camelot.”

 

As Uther heard that, his eyes widened – a sorcerer found? So soon? Kaunos really was excellent at what he did. “Who is it?” he asked impatiently. Whoever it was, he wanted to have them burned at the stake.

 

“I believe it’s the prince’s servant, my lord. Merlin.”

 

“Merlin?” Uther’s eyes filled with hatred.

 

That boy was a sorcerer? And Uther had made him his son’s servant? How could he have lived in Camelot for so long, practicing magic right under their noses? Has Arthur been in danger this entire time? Was the boy secretly plotting against Camelot? How much did he know already?

 

The rage that Uther felt was indescribable. How many times did strange things happen thanks to that incompetent servant? He even admitted in front of the entire council that he was a sorcerer and Uther chose to ignore it just by looking at him and believing Arthur’s attempt at protecting that idiot. An _idiot -_ a perfect disguise.

 

And now Camelot was in danger.

 

“Do you have proof?”

 

“Indeed, my lord,” Kaunos smiled as he stepped closer to the king and showed him a strange staff. Uther remembered that staff. He’d seen it with the two guests that Arthur and his _servant_ had saved in the forest. Now it all made even more sense. Merlin had started planning a long time ago, and if it took him this long, then his plan for Camelot’s future must have been bigger than Uther could imagine.

 

“It’s a magical staff made by the Sidhe,” Kaunos started explaining. “I found it under the boy’s bed. It possesses a very strong kind of magic and only powerful sorcerers should be able to use it, which means-”

 

“Which means that Arthur’s manservant is far more powerful than he seems to be.”

 

Kaunos only nodded.

 

“We need to find him.”

 

“Ah - when I searched through his room today, I found it to be empty. Abandoned except for that staff that he must have left behind accidentally,” Kaunos told him.

 

So Merlin really was an idiot. An idiot with a very strong magic - that was a dangerous combination.

 

“Then we need to bring him back to Camelot and-”

 

Another knock on the door interrupted Uther. “Let them in,” he called, but it was obvious that he was annoyed and angry. As the doors opened to reveal the guards holding back a poorly dressed man, he frowned. “Have you not heard that if you want to speak to a king, you need to ask for an audience first?”

 

“My lord,” the man said, his voice pleading as he tried to fight off the guards without success. Judging by his looks, he might have been living in the forest for some time. “This is very important and cannot wait.”

 

“Guards-”

 

“My lord! There is a sorcerer in the forest around Camelot!”

 

Uther paused – and then with the slight movement of his hand, the guards let the man go. After Uther nodded, the man cleared his throat and stepped closer, but the guards remained alert.

 

“Continue,” Uther narrowed his eyes.

 

“I have been traveling with my, uh . . . friends-” _A bandit then_ , Uther thought. “-and we met a young man, leaving Camelot. He used magic on us and knocked us all out, my lord.”

 

Uther shared a look with Kaunos, who slightly nodded at him. “Describe him,” Uther ordered the bandit.

 

“Um, he was tall but very thin,” the bandit started, frowning as he was trying to remember. “His hair was dark, I think. And he had a backpack.”

 

“That’s him,” Uther mumbled so that only Kaunos would hear him.

 

“It must be,” Kaunos agreed. He had never seen Merlin before.

 

“Where did you meet him?”

 

“On the way to the Forest of Ascetir.”

 

“Very well,” Uther put his hands on his hips and pursed his lips. He paused for a moment before turning to the bandit with a nod. “You’re free to go,” said Uther dismissively, then looking to the knights.

 

“Guards, tell Sir Leon to prepare a search party. We need to hunt this sorcerer down so that he can get what he deserves. And - don’t tell Arthur anything about this.” Returning his attention to Kaunos, Uther continued. “My son seems to have a . . . close relationship with the boy, against my better judgment. He cares about him, despite him being a mere servant.”

 

Kaunos nodded. “Prince Arthur seems to be a man who cares about others more than himself.”

 

“That’s not always for the best,” Uther sighed.

 

“Indeed,” Kaunos nodded, pursing his lips for a second. Then he sighed and looked at Uther again. “My lord, I believe the prince might be one step ahead of us.”

 

“What are you saying?

 

“I saw the prince this morning from my window. He was leaving Camelot, _alone_.”

 

Uther closed his eyes in anger and nodded. “You’re thinking he followed that servant?”

 

“You yourself said he cares about him. I think it’s possible.”

 

“He never learns.” Uther formed a fist of his hand and looked at the door to the throne room. The bandit had already left and one of the guards had run off to find Sir Leon.

 

“Guard,” Uther called the last remaining guard at the door. “Organize a search party for my son as well.” He didn’t wait for the guard to nod and turned to Kaunos in explanation.

 

“He's left the castle like this a few times already. Once only to save the servant’s life, another time to save a different servant.” He paused for a moment. “He’s young and foolish. Or even _enchanted_ by that _Merlin._ ”

 

“I apologize, my lord. I should have informed you of this earlier.”

 

Uther waved his hand at him. “It isn’t your fault, Kaunos. You’re doing well your job in Camelot so far.”

 

Kaunos bowed. “I’m grateful to be here, my lord.”

 

Uther only nodded.

 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Kaunos raised his hand with the staff, “I’d like to make a little research and find out if there is anything more to know about this.”

 

“Of course,” Uther nodded. “But after that, that thing goes to the vaults.”

 

“Of course, my lord,” Kaunos agreed, bowing again.

 

And then he left – and just like before, the throne room returned to the way it always was: cold and silent, and now filled with nothing other than Uther's anger and saddness.

 

 

 

 

 

As soon as Kaunos left the Gaius' quarters, Gwen turned back to the old physician. And Gaius knew that she saw the emotion in his face - guilt, sorrow . . . and he was sure there was far more that his expression was giving away. Gwen had a gift like that - she didn’t always know what to say, but she always knew how to make everyone feel better.

 

So when he saw the obvious question in her eyes, he nodded. “Yes,” he told her, “and now . . . they know about him, too.”

 

Gwen was silent for a moment. She seemed to be thinking hard about what she’d just found out – and Gaius was sure that she was wondering whether she still knew Merlin at all, or if she never had. “But . . . How long has he been a sorcerer?”

 

“That question has a very complicated answer,” Gaius sighed. He glanced at the door, just to be sure no one was eavesdropping on them, and lowered his voice. “Merlin . . . is special. He’s different.”

 

“What do you mean?” Gwen frowned at him.

 

“He was born with magic,” he explained. Gwen raised her eyebrows at that, looking like she’d never heard this could be possible. “His magic is very strong, and for most of his life, it was more of a _special_ instinct than anything he thought he could train and get better at. But . . . his magic got even stronger and his mother sent him to me so that he could learn how to control it.”

 

“He’s been doing a good job, then,” Gwen frowned again, her eyes still unbelieving. “I never noticed, although I knew there was something different about him.” A proud smile flashed across her face, but then it disappeared. “But what is he doing in Camelot at all?” she asked, worried. “I mean, I know he left, I saw him leaving this morning, but . . . why didn’t he run earlier? As soon as he learned how to control his . . . magic? He must know he’s in danger here, every single day.”

 

“To answer that question, I need just one word.” Gaius smiled softly.

 

Gwen was silent for a moment, and then she understood. “Arthur.”

 

Gaius nodded.

 

“He’s protecting him, he’s been doing that ever since he set foot in Camelot.”

 

The proud smile from earlier flashed across Gwen’s face again. And then it disappeared yet again. “What do you think they’ll do to him if they find him?”

 

Gaius couldn’t help but frown sadly at that. “Let’s hope that never happens.”

 

 

 

  

 

 

Leon grabbed his sword, tied his belt around his waist and tossed the traditional red cloak of a knight over his shoulders. The fabric flowed behind him as he walked to the stables to retrieve his horse, and then back to the courtyard, where he'd told his search party of knights to gather and wait for him.

 

To be honest, he couldn’t quite believe it. Merlin? A powerful sorcerer? He didn’t know Arthur’s servant that much, but he was always with Arthur, always by his side, on every trip or quest, _everywhere._ He followed his every step and looked at him with such devotion that it was hard to believe that the boy would want to hurt him, or Camelot.

 

But that was what he’d been told. When the guard Uther had sent for him told him to go after Merlin, at first he wanted to say something, intervene - but he couldn’t disobey.

 

It was Leon, after all, who’d found the magical staff under Merlin’s bed. And this proof was something that couldn’t be taken back. It couldn’t have been a coincidence or a mistake, or anything like that – a magical item had been found in Merlin's room, and that was undeniable. So Merlin had to have magic, otherwise he wouldn’t have kept the staff and he wouldn’t even be able to use it. Besides, just keeping the staff was already illegal.

 

Leon almost felt guilty that he’d found it. But he didn’t really have a choice. After he’d seen it hidden under the bed . . . If he’d pretended he hadn’t seen anything, another knight would have noticed his _mistake_ and found the staff instead of him.

 

He still felt horrible, though. From what he’s witnessed so far . . . Arthur cared about Merlin a lot. And he was sure that Merlin cared about Arthur just as much, which was why believing that Merlin was evil seemed like nonsense to Leon.

 

But that didn't change anything – he still couldn't disobey.

 

He finally walked to the knights that were already standing beside their horses, prepared in front of the stairs that led to the castle.

Leon led his horse by reins as he approached the group, finally stopping alongside his fellow knights.

 

“Is everyone here?” Leon asked, looking around and counting the men.

 

“Yes, Sir Leon,” a knight in the back of the group called.

 

Leon nodded and patted his horse’s neck. “Then we’re ready to go.”

 

“Not quite yet, no,” someone called from the entrance of the castle. When Leon turned around, he recognised the man as Kaunos. He was holding a book in his hand and something else behind his back. “You’re not prepared for the apprehension of a sorcerer, Sir Leon.”

 

“What do we need?”

 

“This,” Kaunos smiled at him and revealed what he’d been holding behind his back - handcuffs. Strange metal handcuffs with unusual symbols engraved everywhere.

 

“What are they?” Leon asked as he accepted them, the other knights looking over his shoulder.

 

Kaunos handed him the key. “Magic-binding handcuffs,” he explained. “I can’t prepare you enough for a sorcerer this strong, but this should definitely help. Don’t release him until he’s here in Camelot and do _not_ lose the key.”

 

Leon nodded. “Thank you,” he said, but his words were halting. He almost said, _is this really necessary? -_ but he stopped himself before he could even open his mouth. He didn’t want Kaunos or anyone to know that he still valued Merlin as a friend. Even though they talked only a few times.

 

“Oh, and one more thing,” said Kaunos, still smiling as he reached into his pocket. “Just like the handcuffs, I only have one of these. It was handmade for me, and I need to get it back as soon as that sorcerer is in a cell.”

 

“Of course,” Leon nodded.

 

Kaunos looked him in the eyes and then nodded as well. Out of his pocket, he pulled a little necklace made of a chain and a wooden triangle. Leon closed it in his palm and bowed to Kaunos.

 

“There’s no need for that,” assured Kaunos, his expression pleasant. “Just get it back to me. It’s a necklace that you should wear once you find yourself close to the sorcerer. It will prevent him from using magic on you. It’s very useful.” He went quiet for a moment and pursed his lips, eyeing the palm in which Leon held the necklace. “Just don’t lose anything I've given you and find the sorcerer. And be careful,” he added. “He seems to be very powerful.”

 

“We will be,” Leon pursed his lips and finally turned away from the witchfinder. He put the handcuffs into his saddlebag, still unsure whether he’d even use them, especially on Merlin. Then he nodded at his knights who were listening to the conversation and all trying to take a peek at the objects Kaunos gave him. “All ready?”

 

“We can go,” one of the knights nodded. That was Leon’s cue to finally mount his horse and leave the courtyard.

 

When he looked back, Kaunos was already gone.

 

After they rode through the gate and left the castle, Leon took the necklace out of his pocket and took a closer look at it.

 

It was made of a narrow metal chain that ran through a little hole in one of the corners of the wooden triangle. From one corner to the other along all three sides of the triangle were strange druid marks. He didn’t know what they meant at all, but one symbol he recognized. It was in the middle of the triangle, bigger than everything else - a little triangle whose corners continued into a spiral. It was called a _triskelion_ , Leon believed.

 

 

After a moment of frowning at it and thinking about everything that’s happened in the last two days, he finally put it around his neck and with a sigh, he urged his horse to go faster.

 

The knights followed him, and together they set off to hunt the sorcerer down.

 

To hunt _Merlin_ down.

 

 

  

 

 

Arthur woke up cold and tense. His neck hurt from lying on the hard stone ground and he really missed his pillows and blanket. For a moment, he thought he heard someone move. It was probably Merlin, but Arthur still didn’t open his eyes. He smiled though. Was Merlin still asleep? He hoped he was. It wasn’t often that he had a chance to watch his servant sleep. And he didn’t want to be creepy, but Merlin was always the one who woke Arthur up and had the chance to see Arthur sleeping every single day. So why shouldn’t Arthur get the same chance now?

 

He could almost see him - his soft face, calm and without a frown. His dark hair and long dark eyelashes . . . a ghost of a smile on his lips. Although, he probably wouldn’t find that once he opened his eyes to really look at Merlin. If Hunith was ill, there was no reason for Merlin to smile. Arthur knew how much he cared about his mother, and he only wished he could have his own mother to care about this much.

 

When Arthur yawned and finally opened his eyes, he realized he was facing the wall. So he turned around to the little pile of dark dust and burned twigs and . . .

 

Merlin wasn’t there.

 

He heard someone move again though. He quickly stood up, blinked a few times to get rid of the sleepy drowsiness and looked outside.

 

But it turned out that it was only his horse.

 

And Merlin wasn’t there with him.

 

Was it possible that Merlin only went out to . . . look around? Search for more wood or food? Pee? . . . Do something secret that he didn’t want Arthur to know about?

 

Arthur closed his eyes and sighed. It didn’t make sense. Merlin knew that Arthur had food with him for both of them and . . . Now Merlin was gone. He left him alone. _Again_. The thought stung, reopening the wound that already stabbed at his heart.

 

What could have been such a secret to make Merlin leave him in the middle of the night? What could Merlin possibly be hiding from him? Why didn’t he want to talk to him? And was Hunith ill at all? Was that all just a lie? Deep down, Arthur had an inkling of what such secret could be. Of what the reason for leaving Camelot exactly when the witc- when Kaunos arrived was. But it was something that Arthur was so scared of, that he didn’t even dare think about it. Because either Merlin was telling the truth . . . Or he had been lying to him not only now, but ever since they met.

 

The sadness that had so suddenly welled up inside him was replaced by anger. Merlin was gone, along with all of his belongings. When Arthur checked his saddlebag, he realized that Merlin had taken half the food he’d packed for them and disappeared without a trace.

 

But as Arthur already told him, he was great at following people, especially in the forest. Hell, he was trained to do just that since childhood. And so he packed his things, found a nearby stream to let his horse drink, and then mounted and started following Merlin’s footprints. That idiot had never learned how to hide them properly.

 

In fact, there was nothing Merlin could hide from him. Not where he was going, not how he managed to overpower ten bandits, _ten_! That would be too many even for Arthur. And yet Merlin refused to tell him. Arthur knew he was lying when he said he didn’t know what had happened to those men. Arthur knew Merlin didn’t want to tell him the truth. But now, Arthur was more determined than ever to find out.

 

He urged his horse to move faster as he followed the trail. It was quite easy to follow Merlin. That idiot must have broken every little branch on his way away from Arthur and stepped into every mud puddle he found. Arthur almost regretted he didn’t teach him better because one day, this carelessness was going to cost Merlin his life.

 

And Arthur would never, _ever_ forgive himself for that.

 

Because after everything that Merlin had put him through, after all the trouble he had to go through because of his lousy servant, after _everything_ , he still cared about Merlin more than he should. He wasn’t just a friend. He wasn’t just his best friend or brother, he was . . . He was just _more._

 

And Arthur had realized that a long time ago.

 

Knowing that, he couldn't stop himself from wondering – did Merlin even care about him at all? Did he think that their friendship, or their master-servant relationship, was nothing? Why did he keep so many secrets? Why did he keep _leaving_ him?

 

Every once and then, usually in the mornings or when Arthur found himself alone with Merlin in his chambers, he thought- he was almost sure that Merlin felt the same way. Sometimes, in the looks Merlin gave him, there was something in his eyes that screamed of how much he cared about Arthur. But then it was gone and Arthur was left to wonder if it was real at all.

 

And then, just this morning, he was sure there was something again. He could see it in Merlin’s eyes, in his smile, in the way his cheeks turned just a tiny bit pink . . . But then Merlin ran away, leaving behind only a letter without any explanation whatsoever and when Arthur finally found him, Merlin lied to him, didn’t want to tell him the truth and ran away again.

 

Had he done something to break the law? If so, he must have known that Arthur didn’t care about that. As long as . . . As long as Merlin stayed with him, even only as a friend, Arthur would defend Merlin even if he had murdered someone. Because honestly, if something like that ever happened, it would surely be some stupid accident anyway.

 

Merlin had the gentlest soul that Arthur had ever seen. He was kind to everyone and everything, especially animals, which was why he hated hunting trips.

 

The only person Merlin kept insulting was Arthur. But Arthur was fine with that - he played along. Because that was exactly what it was - just a game. No matter how many times they called each other _idiot_ or _dollophead_ , no matter how many times they fought and argued, they still knew they cared about each other. They were best friends.

 

And was it wrong when Arthur wished they could be something more?

 

Sometimes when Merlin was talking to him or dressing him, Arthur’s eyes would briefly wander to his lips and-

 

Arthur shook his head and closed his eyes briefly. Judging by how Merlin had been acting recently, it was clear that he didn’t care about Arthur in that way. It still hurt a lot though. And it made Arthur angry. Why did Merlin keep _leaving_ him?

 

He continued in the direction he believed Merlin had gone in, and was grateful that the wind wasn’t as strong as the day before. At least it allowed him to hear better. He brought the reins closer to himself to stop the horse.

 

Then he listened.

 

“It’s you again,” he heard a man call. But it was far away, distant. “Don’t think we don’t know what you are, you bastard!”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

That was Merlin! As soon as Arthur heard Merlin’s voice, he couldn’t help but be furious with whoever dared call his friend a _bastard._ He frowned and listened some more.

 

“One of my people went to tell the king about you,” the man said. Merlin was strangely silent.

 

When Arthur couldn’t hear him at all, he decided to get closer. He followed the noise, and when he heard everything without a problem, he decided to dismount from his horse, tying the reins to a tree. Then he ran up a nearby hill, following the sound of Merlin and the men that were harassing him. As soon as he was up there, he saw them.

 

There was nine of them, the same men he’d met on his way to find Merlin the previous day. They had weapons in their hands — mostly daggers, two (probably stolen) swords, a mace and a giant hammer. Merlin didn’t stand a chance.

 

Right now he was trapped in the middle of their group - they must have circled him. Arthur had found them lying in a circle earlier as well, so it must have been right now that Merlin had done something to them - something that he didn’t want to share with Arthur. Something that made him not trust Arthur like Arthur thought he did.

 

But Arthur didn’t want to wait and see what happened, even for the sake of finding out what Merlin had done last time. This time, Arthur was there and he would help.

 

Just as Merlin reached out his hand - for whatever purpose, Arthur didn’t dare to think of the reason - Arthur called out his name. “Merlin!” Merlin’s head snapped towards him and for a second, Arthur could swear he saw fear in his eyes.

 

Why would Merlin be afraid of him? What was wrong? Why did he run away? So many questions and no answers. It was driving Arthur insane. But now there was no time for endless wondering and dead-end conversations.

 

He unsheathed his sword just as the bandits noticed him and he smirked. “You know, you made a grave mistake when you decided to attack my friend,” he told them.

 

And then the true fight began.

 

Arthur ran down the hill, swinging his sword and piercing the first bandit before he could even make a move. The rest of them then started running towards him as well, but he was used to these kinds of fights. He was the best swordsman in Camelot, after all. So when they got closer, he used his sword to parry their blows, kicking out with his leg and causing the bandit nearest him to lose his footing and fall.

 

One of the other men, further away and running towards him, suddenly fell to the ground with a cry – out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw a tree branch pin him to the ground. The wind must have been strong enough to tear it off.

 

He continued to fight, cleverly using his sword to block one blow after another. He didn’t have a shield with him, but they weren’t trained and that was their disadvantage. One of the bandits unexpectedly tripped over a large root on the ground, and another let go of his sword for no apparent reason. When Arthur glanced at Merlin, he found him lying behind a tree, hiding.

 

At least he was safe.

 

One of the men took advantage of Arthur being distracted for a second, and he managed to cut Arthur’s arm. Arthur screamed in surprise rather than pain.

 

“Arthur!” he heard Merlin yell, but he couldn’t look his way this time. He knew that all of the bandits were focused only on him.

 

He ignored the wound and fought with his teeth gritted and his grip on the sword as tight as ever. He managed to cut one bandit’s leg, pierce another, kick another one and then take care of him once he was on the ground.

 

There were only two or three bandits left now. Arthur almost felt proud - he’d thought that ten men was too many for him, but look at him now! He was _excellent_. And he was saving a _damsel_ in distress.

 

But that _damsel_ wasn’t hiding behind a tree anymore and all of Arthur’s pride disappeared immediately as he caught sight of Merlin, eyes wide. Even though he only wanted to help, he was a bloody _idiot._

 

“Merlin!” Arthur called, distracted – in his peripheral, he saw the man with the giant hammer pull himself back onto his feet, starting towards him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

 

Merlin was standing now, walking towards the man with the mace. He didn’t have a sword, he didn’t have a chainmail, not even a shield. All he was holding was a thick branch. That wouldn’t even help him against a _squirrel_!

 

“Are you crazy?” Arthur hissed.

 

“Well, I’ve been called many things, sire!”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes and prepared his sword against the man with the hammer. Suddenly, he became aware of the wound on his arm – blood ran down the length of his arm to his elbow, warm against his skin but slowly growing cold in the autumn air. And it hurt.

 

The man was smiling. His teeth were yellow and gross and his beard was all over his face, growing into his sideburns. Arthur couldn’t even distinguish hair from his beard there.

 

His hammer was shining in the sun that had come out from behind the grey clouds. Arthur gripped his sword tighter, and then - he heard a scream.

 

“Merlin!” His eyes found the boy, lying on the ground with his eyes wide.

 

The man with the hammer swung his weapon overhead, but Arthur quickly spun his sword to cut at the brute's leg, rounding on him before the man could fall on top of him. Merlin was the priority now. He ran towards him as fast as he could, eyes latched onto the bandit swinging his mace above his head and smirking at Merlin with an evil look in his eyes.

 

“Argh!” Arthur yelled as he kicked the man in the back of his knee. The mace fell on the ground, fortunately right between Merlin’s legs and not hurting him. Arthur lifted his sword and finished the man off.

 

“Arthur!”

 

The prince quickly turned around and jumped away from the hammer that almost connected with his head. He had one advantage - yes, the man was big and heavy, but so was his hammer. And Arthur’s sword was much lighter and easier to move. So he used it and pierced his stomach. The man fell to the ground with his eyes wide, letting out his last breath.

 

For the first time, Arthur realized how heavily he was breathing.

 

“Arthur?” he heard Merlin’s quiet voice. He turned towards him. “Are you alright?”

 

Arthur laughed. “Seriously? You’re concerned about me after . . . After . . .“ He took a deep breath and looked down at Merlin. “You’re wounded too, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I noticed,” Merlin rolled his eyes. Then he reached out his hand and Arthur took it, helping Merlin up off the ground. When they were both standing, Arthur let out a sigh of relief. Then his worries returned and he looked at Merlin’s shoulder. It was bleeding.

 

“Let me take a look at that,” he insisted, and was glad when Merlin didn’t protest. He carefully helped him get out of his jacket before tearing at the tunic around Merlin's shoulder.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Stay still.”

 

Merlin pursed his lips and looked away, but his cheeks still turned pink as Arthur tore the second tunic as well and inspected his shoulder and collarbone. It was wounded, but it wasn’t bleeding that badly. And he was sure that with the cold weather, it would stop bleeding eventually - after he boiled some water and washed the wound.

 

For now, he ignored Merlin’s sighs and he took hold of the hem of Merlin’s tunic, tearing at it some more.

 

“Seriously, Arthur?” Merlin rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I packed two more tunics with me.”

 

“So you packed all your clothes but no food?” Arthur teased.

 

Merlin just rolled his eyes and let him continue. This really wasn’t the way Arthur imagined himself tearing Merlin’s clothes off, but at the moment, this was more important. He couldn’t think about that. Merlin would see his red cheeks. So he swallowed and avoided Merlin’s eyes and his perfect hip bone as he tore off a piece of the tunic. Then he folded it in half and pressed it against Merlin’s wound. Merlin hissed.

 

“Sorry,” Arthur mumbled.

 

Then he wrapped the cloth under Merlin’s armpit and made sure it was fixed in place before he helped Merlin back into his jacket.

 

“Thanks,” Merlin cleared his throat.

 

Arthur stepped away and nodded.

 

Then, as if it was because he knew Merlin was safe now and not bleeding anymore, his anger returned. His expression turned into a scowl as all of his emotional wounds came back to him.

 

“How could you have left me in that cave?” asked Arthur, his voice hard. “I thought you wanted me to go with you to Ealdor, but now I know you were lying to me!” As he continued, his voice rose uncontrollably, and suddenly he was shouting – the hurt in Merlin's eyes wasn't enough to calm Arthur's sudden rage. “Why do you always keep leaving me?!”

 

“I never wanted to leave you,” Merlin told him silently.

 

“But you did,” Arthur continued. “And then you did it again. And you still refuse to tell me what’s going on.”

 

“That’s because I can’t!” Merlin finally yelled at him. “Look, Arthur,” Merlin sighed. “I’m grateful that you helped me with the bandits-”

 

“Not that you couldn’t have taken care of them yourself. But oh, wait. You still won’t tell me how you did it the first time!”

 

Merlin looked him in the eyes and frowned. “I said I can’t-”

 

“Yeah, I heard,” Arthur nodded. “You _can’t_ tell me. But why can’t you? Don’t you trust me?”

 

“Of course I trust you Arthur, I trust you with my life, but-”

 

“But what?” Arthur frowned. “You know, I heard them before I came here to help you. I heard them talking to you. One of them told my father about you, but what he said or why he went to my father in the first place, I supposed I’ll never know. And you know why? Because you _can’t_ tell me.”

 

Merlin’s eyes filled with tears and there was a lot of regret hidden there. Arthur saw it. He saw all of it. But even though he felt guilty for yelling at Merlin like that, he still craved to know _why_.

 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered.

 

“Don’t be,” Arthur waved his hand. Then he picked up the sword off the ground and sheathed it back into his belt. “I’m going with you, whether you want me or not.” Without waiting for an answer, he started walking back to his horse. He completely forgot about his own wound.

 

“But Arthur, you can’t!” Merlin ran after him, carefully avoiding the bandits on the ground. “You’re the prince, you have to stay in Camelot and become the king and-”

 

At that moment Arthur turned to Merlin sharply and frowned. What Merlin just said . . . It almost sounded like . . . “Are you saying you wish to leave Camelot . . . _forever_?”

 

Merlin only pursed his lips, saying nothing - but it was a clear answer to Arthur. He sniffed and shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he breathed out. Then he turned away from Merlin again and continued to where he’d left his horse.

 

Merlin followed in silence.

 

  

 

The guilt Merlin felt was more intense than ever before. He'd never felt so miserable. Leaving a letter to let Arthur know he was leaving now seemed like the worst possible idea. But leaving nothing behind in Camelot at all . . . Merlin wasn’t sure if that was better.

 

But judging by the overwhelming silence and Arthur’s firm frown . . . maybe it was. Even though it was breaking Merlin’s heart.

 

They rode on the horse together for a few miles before stopping in a clearing. At first, Arthur wanted to return to Camelot, but Merlin refused. Arthur must have realized that the bandits had told the king about Merlin because of something important, so he didn’t protest much and complied, riding them in a random direction away from Camelot.

 

Even after everything that’s happened . . . It warmed Merlin’s heart to see that Arthur was willing to never return to Camelot and stay with Merlin. But the other, more rational part of him knew that that was a bad thing. Arthur needed to become the king of the prophecies, just as Merlin had to master his magic. They needed to fulfill their destiny and unite the lands of Albion. And how were they going to do that if they ran away from Camelot?

 

Once they were in the clearing, Merlin first tended to the horse and then took a seat in front of the campfire that Arthur had made with his tinderbox. He was boiling water so that he could wash his and Merlin’s wounds and then cover them with fresh bandages - which probably meant sacrificing another of Merlin’s tunics because Arthur was only in his armour.

 

The silence was almost unbearable, but every time Merlin opened his mouth to say something, he closed it again. Arthur was angry with him and he was hurting inside - Merlin could see that. But all of that was _because of_ Merlin and he didn’t know how to fix it.

 

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Arthur asked after a while. His voice sounded . . . resigned.

 

Merlin took his time to answer. He needed to be honest with Arthur. “I . . . I thought of going back to Ealdor. But I don’t think I can go there either.”

 

“And let me guess - you can’t tell me why.” Arthur smirked, bitterly.

 

“Arthur-”

 

“No, it’s okay,” he nodded. The water was still not boiling and the waiting seemed endless. “You did something so horrible that you had to leave Camelot. You didn’t think about Gaius, or Gwen or . . . or me. You’re just running away.”

 

Seeing Arthur like this and hearing him say things like this was doing worse than break Merlin's heart - it was breaking Merlin’s soul. For a moment, he considered telling Arthur about his magic. Perhaps his reaction wouldn’t be that bad. But then he stopped himself. How could he be sure he was ready? That _they_ were ready?

 

“I left you a letter.”

 

“But you gave Gwen a hug,” Arthur mumbled and then cleared his throat, standing up to check the water - it was still not boiling.

 

Merlin frowned at that and watched Arthur closely. “You’re . . . You’re _jealous_ that I gave Gwen a hug and not you?”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “That’s neither true nor the point. The point is that you left everything and everyone behind and didn’t think twice about them.”

 

“I didn’t know I wouldn’t be able to return at all,” Merlin defended himself. He didn’t dare raise his voice though. Of all things he needed right now, Arthur yelling at him again was the last of them. “As I explained in the letter, I thought I would only leave for a couple of days or weeks. But . . . then things changed.”

 

Arthur didn’t say anything.

 

Merlin knew how Arthur must have felt, but his expression stayed stone cold. His frown was the only thing Merlin could see. Merlin thought about what he could tell Arthur - something that wasn’t too dangerous. He considered showing Arthur the little wooden dragon that his father had made for him, but that would inevitably lead to the entire story about the Dragonlord - Arthur saw the little carved dragon before the attack, Merlin knew that. And being a Dragonlord was surely as bad as having magic because it meant he was the one who released the dragon and that would only make Arthur angrier than he already was now.

 

So Merlin stayed quiet. And they sat in silence until the water started boiling.

 

Arthur stood up again and carefully put the pot with water on the ground next to the fire, using his long chainmail sleeves to handle it so he wouldn’t get burned. Then another waiting session began - they had to wait until the water was warm or cold enough to use.

 

So they sat there in silence again. The only thing Merlin could hear was the sound of himself swallowing and the birds in the distance, along with the horse nearer to him.

 

He’d never experienced Arthur being so angry. Especially not when the anger was directed at him. And he didn’t know how to deal with that, so he didn’t say anything and didn’t move. His shoulder was hurting and he desperately wanted to help Arthur with his own wound, but he had an inkling that Arthur wouldn’t let him. Not until he trusted him again, or at least wasn’t as hurt as he was now.

 

Merlin sighed and closed his eyes. He wished he could turn back time. If only they were back in Camelot again and nothing bad happened. If only Kaunos had never been invited to stay in Camelot. If only Merlin didn’t have to leave . . .

 

Merlin thought about using magic to cool the water down, but he couldn’t. Arthur would notice, the water would be cold too soon, and even though he really wanted to speed it all up to avoid even more angry silence, the last thing he needed was to deal with Arthur knowing about his magic. So he waited and waited and kept watching Arthur, turning his gaze to the ground whenever Arthur's eyes wandered over to him.

 

Their eyes never met.

 

When the water was finally warm and not boiling hot, Arthur stood up again. Merlin took that as a cue to remove his jacket, struggling to pull off his tunic. He used his healthy arm to try and pull it over his head, but couldn’t.

 

“Um,” he let out a little noise as he tried not to move with his injured shoulder. It hurt now more than before.

 

And then before he knew it, he felt Arthur’s strong hands on his arm, helping him out of the first tunic. He didn’t know how to feel. He was glad that Arthur still considered Merlin’s health more important than the invisible wall that was standing between them since the day before. But at the same time, it meant that yet again, Arthur would witness him blush.

 

And sure enough, once Arthur helped him out and his cold fingers brushed against Merlin’s bare collarbone, Merlin gasped softly and then quickly shut his mouth, trying to get out of the second torn tunic too. Arthur helped him and they found themselves just standing there, Merlin half naked and Arthur still dressed.

 

It was a little bit unfair. And it was cold, so Merlin couldn’t help the goosebumps.

 

But there was one thing that Merlin had forgotten about. One thing that made Arthur’s eyes go as wide as plates in the royal kitchen.

 

_The scars._

 

There weren’t many of them, but Merlin knew exactly which one Arthur’s eyes were fixed on. The one from Nimueh and her fireball. It was the biggest one, burned right in the middle of his chest.

 

Arthur didn’t look angry now. He looked sad. “Don’t tell me you can’t tell me about this either,” he swallowed. Merlin could see the tears glistening in Arthur’s eyes. He probably thought it was his fault – that he'd somehow failed in protecting Merlin against this, whatever _this_ was.

 

“I’ll tell you,” Merlin promised quietly. “Just . . . Not today. I’m sorry.”

 

“I just cannot understand . . . what could have happened so _bad_ to cause this,” Arthur said. His voice was weak. “What could you have done that was _so terrible_ that you had to leave Camelot, that you left m-” He cleared his throat and looked away, closing his eyes briefly. “Keep your secrets,” he finished.

 

Merlin felt tears well up in his own eyes. Maybe telling Arthur about his magic would be better than this. But how could he get over the overwhelming fear whenever he thought about it?

 

Arthur took the pot, now only warm in his hands, and gestured for Merlin to kneel in front of him. Then he took another piece of cloth that he’d torn from Merlin’s already ruined tunic. He washed it in the water and then started cleaning Merlin’s wound.

 

Merlin tried his best not to let out any sound, despite the pain. Arthur was gentle with him. He didn’t want to hurt him, Merlin knew that. So when it was done, they used another piece of his tunic to make another bandage that Arthur tied under his armpit. Arthur then helped him get into another tunic and finally into his jacket.

 

Then it was Arthur’s turn.

 

Merlin helped him out of the chainmail like he always did, and then out of everything else he wore underneath that. Arthur didn’t seem to protest. Once Arthur was half naked in front of him, Merlin couldn’t help but gasp. He’d never been this close, never been allowed to touch _him._ He felt his cheeks burn hot, but he couldn’t be distracted like that, not now. So he focused on the cut on Arthur’s arm. He reached out his hand and-

 

“I can do it alone,” said Arthur suddenly, turning away from him.

 

“Are you sure?” Merlin was concerned. “It looks deep. And Gaius taught me-”

 

“I’m not a baby, _Mer_ lin, I know how to deal with this.” Arthur snapped. Then he lowered his voice again, looking hesitant. “I’d say that I’ve dealt with more wounds than you, but . . . judging by what I just saw,” he glanced at Merlin’s chest, “I’m not so sure anymore.”

 

“Gaius helped me with them,” Merlin nodded. “That’s how I learned how to help you now.”

 

“I don’t need help,” Arthur shook his head.

 

Without letting Merlin say anything else, he took another cloth and washed it in the rest of the water in the pot. As he started cleaning his wound, he gritted his teeth. Merlin could see that it was painful.

 

“Are you sure that-”

 

“Yes, just go feed the horse or something,” Arthur hissed.

 

Merlin nodded and walked away. He fed the horse and led it to the stream that they used to get the water from, and then he led him back and tied him to a tree again. When he turned around, Arthur was finished. His arm was bandaged, his tunic was back on and he even managed to get into his chainmail again. How he did all of that on his own, Merlin didn’t know.

 

But it told him one thing - Arthur didn’t want Merlin to even touch him. And that hurt Merlin a hundred times more than the wound on his shoulder possibly could.

 

  

 

 

After they rested enough, they mounted the horse together again. Arthur sat in the front, holding the reins and controlling the horse. Merlin sat in the back, his chest pressing into Arthur’s back with his arms wrapped around Arthur’s waist. After a while, he even laid his head on Arthur’s shoulder and only watched the trees around them. Arthur didn’t seem to mind this time.

 

If they were in any other situation, Merlin would feel nervous about how he was practically lying on Arthur’s back. He’d be blushing hard. But now? After all that’s happened? He only felt two things - sadness and guilt. And he couldn’t get over it.

 

They rode in silence, not sure where they were heading; every once in a while, Arthur would randomly turn to the right or the left, but this was only to make the journey easier for the horse that carried them. Generally, they were heading East though. After a while, they passed a meadow and entered another forest.

 

The only thing Arthur said as they rode was, “Do you think my father is looking for you? For whatever you did?”

 

“I don’t know,” Merlin mumbled into his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

 

They were silent again after that.

 

The next time that Arthur talked to him was when they were preparing for the night. They found a partially hidden place between a large rock and a few bushed and started a fire there, and finally settled down to rest.

 

Arthur kept his eyes open, though, and after a while, he took a deep breath. That was how Merlin knew he wanted to say something. After another moment, he looked into Merlin’s eyes and spoke. “Don’t-”

 

“I won’t,” promised Merlin quickly. He wouldn’t leave him again. Not after what it caused him, what it caused _them._ “I promise.”

 

Arthur didn’t seem to be convinced, but he nodded.

 

After that, he slowly fell asleep. Merlin didn’t have the luxury. He didn’t want to sleep. Instead, just like the night before, he waited until he was sure Arthur was asleep. Not because he wanted to leave, but because he’d seen how deep Arthur’s wound was.

 

And no amount of boiled water and bandages would fix that. Merlin didn’t have what he needed here, but he had his gift - he had magic. He knew it was a huge risk to do this, but when did he _not_ risk everything to save Arthur’s life? And he didn’t want his wound to get infected and more dangerous than it had to be. He had to do this. For Arthur, especially after everything the prince had done for him recently.

 

So when he heard the familiar snoring, he stood up and moved closer to Arthur. He knelt down next to him and was grateful that Arthur had fallen sleep on his back, leaving Merlin with perfect access to his wounded arm.

 

Merlin couldn’t take off his clothes like he did last time. So there was no way of knowing whether his spell worked - he would just have to have faith and hope. Mostly, when a spell didn’t work, he could feel it. And although he wasn’t very good at healing magic, he had to try - and do so very, _very_ silently. Arthur was a light sleeper when he spent the night in the forest, where danger awaited them around every corner.

 

Merlin pursed his lips and got to work. He gently touched Arthur’s arm, where he knew the wound was located. Then he took a deep breath and checked Arthur’s eyes again - still closed. He closed his own eyes to concentrate and started.

 

“ _Gestathole. Thurhhaele!_ ” he whispered. But the spell didn’t work. He was sure of it. He felt the magic, but . . . on Arthur's wound, it had no effect. “ _Purhhaele dolgbenn!”_ Yet again, he felt the magic, but it didn’t work. Arthur snored a little bit louder and Merlin quickly let go of his arm, but Arthur was still asleep. Merlin frowned. Maybe he should try to say the spell a tiny bit louder to make it more effective. Not too loud though.

 

He took a deep breath and tried again then. “ _Licsar gestapol nu!_ ”

 

Merlin smiled. He felt the magic pass through him in a wave, spreading outwards through his fingertips and moving into Arthur. It healed the wound, he was sure of it. And he didn’t even care that Arthur would notice the wound was gone, at least it wouldn’t get infected now.

 

“ _Licsar gestapol nu!_ ” he whispered again, just to be sure. He glanced at Arthur with a smile as he said it, but-

 

His heart skipped a beat and he stopped breathing.

 

Because Arthur’s eyes were wide open.

 

And Merlin’s eyes were still _gold._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amulet is included in the cover for this fanfic! I created the spell and translated it into runes, and matchboximpala brought it to life! :)
> 
> \- the runes: ᛖᚨᛚᛚ ᚦᛁᚾ ᛞᚱYᚲᚱᛇᚠᛏ ᚨᛁᛞᛚᛁᚨᚾ. (There was no rune for Y so I just used Y, which looks like a rune anyway.)  
> \- the spell: Eall þin drycræft aidlian!  
> \- translation: All your magic to make useless!
> 
>  
> 
> **SPELLS**
> 
>  
> 
> \- _"Gestepe hole! Þurhhæle!"_ \- used in 1x13 Le Morte d’Arthur by Merlin. According to Merlin’s Complete Guide it means “Cure. Make well.” And the possible translation is “Heal the injury! Heal thoroughly!”
> 
> \- _"Purhhaele dolgbenn"_ \- used in 3x05 The Crystal Cave by Merlin. It means “Heal thoroughly the wound.”
> 
> \- _"Licsar gestapol nu!"_ \- used in 3x05 The Crystal Cave again, by Merlin. It means “Behold, you support the mortal wound!”


	5. The Real You

Arthur fell asleep slowly. He wasn’t sure if he could trust Merlin's promise that he wouldn't leave again, but he was tired after the fight with the bandits and when his eyes closed on their own, he didn’t fight it. He fell asleep, but his sleep was restless.

 

His dreams were all the same - Merlin left him, not caring how he felt. Merlin lied to him about something and didn’t want to tell Arthur what it was. Merlin was keeping secrets from him, refusing to trust him.

 

Merlin was not who he said he was.

 

Merlin was a killer.

 

Merlin was a druid.

 

Merlin was a spy.

 

Merlin was a sorcerer.

 

Merlin . . . wasn’t his friend.

 

Arthur didn’t know what made him wake up, but there was this . . . _strange_ feeling all around him. It was warm and tender, yet not like anything he’d ever experienced and when he finally regained consciousness, he felt someone holding his arm.

 

His eyes snapped open and he found himself staring up at the same person he'd dreamt about.

 

Merlin.

 

But it wasn’t his Merlin. His eyes were gold. And he was smiling. This wasn’t his Merlin because his Merlin wasn’t a sorcerer, his Merlin didn’t lie to him, his Merlin was his _friend-_ or wasn’t he?

 

Arthur wanted to believe this was just another dream. But when their eyes met and the silence stretched, when the gold faded out of Merlin’s eyes and Arthur saw the horror and fear beneath it . . . He knew this was no dream at all. This was real.

 

“Merlin?”

 

Merlin opened his mouth and then closed it again, clutching his hands to his chest as he stood up and stepped away from Arthur. Then it occurred to him. Merlin was acting afraid of him, but he. . . He was a _sorcerer._

 

Merlin was a sorcerer.

 

He had _magic_.

 

The secret Merlin had, that inkling Arthur didn’t dare think about, his worst nightmare . . .

 

What happened next was more of an instinct rather than anything else. Arthur didn’t even think about it. He jumped up, unsheathing his sword and pointed it at Merlin, who quickly backed away.

 

What had Merlin been doing to him? Was he using magic on him? Could he even trust him at all?

 

“Arthur, I can-”

 

“Then explain,” Arthur cut him off, frowning. He couldn’t believe how harsh he sounded, but then again, Merlin had been lying about so many things lately that he'd had enough. “What the hell were you doing? Did you use magic on me? Are you a sorcerer?”

 

Merlin’s eyes filled with tears and his lips trembled.

 

Even after everything . . . It hurt Arthur to see him like this. But he forced the feeling down and swallowed. “Answer me!”

 

Merlin nodded. “Arthur, I’m so sorry.”

 

“ _What_ were you doing?” Arthur asked again, his voice sharp.

 

Merlin cleared his throat and swallowed. “I healed your arm.” His voice was shaking as he lightly pointed at Arthur’s arm.

 

Arthur frowned at him in confusion and looked at his arm. It didn’t hurt anymore. But no, that couldn’t be right, Merlin had magic and magic was . . . e _vil._

 

“Why did you do that?” Arthur asked instead.

 

“Because even though you might not believe me right now, I care about you and you’re my friend,” Merlin told him. His voice was so weak.

 

Arthur felt tears prick at his own eyes as he continued watching Merlin in anger and disbelief. How did they get from that normal morning to here? To this mess? How could so many bad things happen in a matter of _hours_? Mere _days?_ How could he have even _thought_ of kissing that smirk off of Merlin's face just days ago – and now, here he was pointing his sword at Merlin instead?

 

Arthur looked at the sword in his hands. It was shaking. With a heavy sigh, he lowered it and let it fall to the ground.

 

Merlin watched his every movement closely, relief growing in his eyes, before looking back up to Arthur's face. Their eyes locked and it took a while before Arthur could look away. He loved Merlin with all his heart – he could never hurt him. But why did Merlin have to make this harder for him? Why did everything have to be so _complicated_?

 

“Is this why you keep leaving me?” Arthur asked, his voice barely a whisper. Merlin heard him though.

 

“I never wanted to leave you, I told you that.”

 

“Then why?” Arthur asked. But he already knew the answer. Merlin disappeared the same day that-

 

“Kaunos,” Merlin voiced Arthur’s thoughts. “I didn’t know who he was until Gaius told me, right before the meeting. And that’s why I had to get away so suddenly. I planned to go back after he left Camelot, but-”

 

“Then I told you he was staying.”

 

Merlin nodded. His cheeks were already wet from tears.

 

Arthur bent down and picked up his sword, sliding the blade back into its scabbard on his belt. Then he took a slow step back towards their little camp, sitting back down where he'd fallen asleep. Merlin sat down as well, opposite him, with only the last tiny flames of the fire between them. Merlin looked down at them and then reached out his hand slowly, muttering something under his breath.

 

His eyes flashed gold – and in the same instant the fire reignited, flames jumping higher with a wave of extra warmth. Arthur gasped, startled.

 

“Don’t do that,” snapped Arthur.

 

“Sorry,” Merlin apologized, looking down. He sniffed almost inaudibly and instinctively touched his shoulder, where his wound was. Arthur wondered why he hadn’t used his magic on his own wound too.

 

“So that’s how you dealt with those bandits,” Arthur mused out loud. “You used your magic on them.”

 

Merlin nodded.

 

“And now my father knows about your magic too, and that’s why we’re running away from Camelot.”

 

Merlin nodded again. “You don’t have to come with me,” he added. But Arthur could hear the hesitation in his voice - and he knew he’d never leave Merlin alone in this situation, not even after everything he’d found out so far.

 

He didn’t say anything, though.

 

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Merlin told him. Arthur was silent. “I’m sorry I lied to you for so long about who I am.”

 

“ _Who_ are you?” Arthur asked. “I thought . . . I thought I knew you.”

 

“I’m still the same person,” Merlin shook his head. “I’m still me, I just happen to have magic. That’s all.”

 

“And how did that _just_ happen? You know it’s illegal, right?” Merlin had to know that. So why did he keep using it? Did he use it back in Camelot too? Because if he did, then he was an idiot, just like Arthur used to call him.

 

“I didn’t really have a choice,” Merlin swallowed again as he looked into Arthur’s eyes.

 

Arthur frowned at that. “What do you mean?”

 

“I was born with my magic.”

 

“That’s impossible,” Arthur shook his head. It was true that he didn’t know much about magic, but he knew this. No one could be born with that curse.

 

“It is,” Merlin protested. “Look - I could move objects with my mind even before I could talk. But as I grew older, my magic grew stronger and I couldn’t control it. That’s why my mother sent me to Camelot, to Gaius. She thought he could help.”

 

“So she sent you to the heart of the kingdom that punishes magic with death?” Arthur asked. He’s only met Hunith once, but she seemed like a clever woman, not like someone who sent her son somewhere where they could kill him on the spot for simply existing.

 

“But Gaius was there,” Merlin smiled briefly. So Gaius knew too. Of course. “He helped me learn to control it. I started to study magic properly. Spells for example. I hadn’t known any before.”

 

Arthur nodded. “So you used magic. In Camelot.” Arthur knew now why Merlin was running away from that place. “Where did you even want to go?” he asked then. “My father won’t stop hunting you down. The knights are probably in the forest right now, looking for you. And Kaunos has never failed before.”

 

Merlin shrugged. “I know that, but I don’t know where to go.” His eyes filled with tears again. “I guess I’ll have to hide somewhere, change how I look and change my name.”

 

Arthur sighed. “And what about your scars?” he changed the subject again. “You said you’d tell me about them.”

 

Merlin pursed his lips. “I’ve been using my magic to protect you from harm ever since I met you,” Merlin answered. “And it took its toll on me.”

 

“I don’t need protection, especially not from a _sorcerer_ ,” Arthur frowned at him. He could see the pain in Merlin’s eyes again and even though he didn’t like it, he took a deep breath and ignored it. He needed answers.

 

“You’d be surprised at how many times you could have died, if it wasn't for me.”

 

Arthur frowned at him again. “Why would you help me though? You have . . . magic.”

 

“Magic isn’t evil, Arthur,” Merlin began, staring at him intently. “It isn't good either, it's just a power. There is no evil in sorcery, only in the hearts of men.”

 

Arthur took a minute to process this. His entire life, his father taught him that magic was evil and anything else was out of the question. It corrupts the soul of its user without exceptions. But if what Merlin was telling him was true . . . Then his father was wrong. Arthur’s entire world was wrong. And - when he looked at Merlin, he knew there was not a single evil bone in his body. He might have been lying to him, but he was not evil. Besides, he’s seen magic used for good before, like healing for example. Just like Kaunos said — on his travels, he’s seen many things that he didn’t tell his father about.

 

“Then why did you never tell me?” Artur asked.

 

“I didn’t want to put you in that position,” Merlin answered. “You’d have to either lie to your father or kill me, and . . . I didn’t want to think about what you’d do.”

 

“I’m not sure what I’d have done,” Arthur mused. “But I wouldn’t run you through, you must have known that.”

 

Merlin only shrugged.

 

From somewhere far above them came the sound of an owl hooting – they both looked up, and as Arthur lowered his gaze again, he couldn't help but yawn. He was still angry. He really was. But he needed to sleep until morning, he couldn’t have slept more than an hour before all of this had happened.

 

“You know what, we’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he told Merlin. “Get some sleep, and don’t leave like you so love to do.”

 

He knew that was hurtful to Merlin, but he turned away from him and lay on the ground anyway. He didn’t want to see Merlin’s face, or his gold eyes again. At least not at the moment. There was still a tiny chance this was all a dream and Merlin was exactly the idiot that Arthur fell in love with, the one who liked to call him names and not mutter spells under his breath.

 

He hadn’t talked to Merlin the entire day, and now it felt like they talked too much instead of sleeping. But to be honest, he knew he wasn’t the only one who dreaded the conversation to come.

 

As he closed his eyes, he heard Merlin lay down as well. “Good night, Arthur,” he heard him say.

 

Arthur didn’t answer.

 

  

 

 

It was a long day and the night was even worse. What had happened between them . . . Merlin didn’t even know what to think. If Arthur didn’t hate him for lying to him before, he definitely did now – to have found out about Merlin's magic like this . . . That must have been horrifying. Of course, Merlin was only healing Arthur’s wound, but how must it have looked at first? That he was cursing him? Using dark magic against the prince?

 

Arthur must have thought that Merlin had used magic on him like that before.

 

Merlin sighed and turned back to the fire, still lying on the ground. Sleep would not come to him. He saw Arthur’s back, slowly moving up and down as he breathed, the fire casting flickering shadows across his form.

 

If the situation were any different, Merlin would smile. Now, though - he couldn't seem to keep his eyes from stinging with fresh and unshed tears. For now, it looked like Arthur’s sleep was peaceful. But what could he be dreaming about? Was he dreaming about Merlin? Was it a bad dream? Or was he just pretending he was asleep?

 

Did Arthur even trust him anymore? Judging from what had happened – the way that Arthur had stared at Merlin earlier – it didn't seem so.

 

Merlin brushed away his tears and sat up, bringing his knees to his chin and hugging his legs. He was leaning against the rock they were hiding behind, and he allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment.

 

He’s managed to ruin one of the only relationships he truly cared about. Only one day ago, his biggest problem was finding out whether Arthur cared about him in the same way that Merlin did, and now he didn’t even know if Arthur would ever talk to him again or look him in the eyes. Or trust him.

 

On the other hand, he was a little relieved that Arthur finally knew about his magic. No matter what happened, he now knew the real Merlin. Sure, he still didn’t know all the details, but he knew that Merlin had magic. The only thing Merlin regretted more than anything was that he didn’t get the chance to tell Arthur himself. He didn’t know whether Arthur would have been this angry, had he told him himself. But at least it would have been his own decision, not a stupid mistake.

 

And at least Arthur would understand that Merlin trusted him with his secret. Because Merlin did trust him with it, he trusted him with his life, but everything had always been too complicated – he'd just kept postponing _the talk_ , again and again until he hadn't even been sure that he'd ever be brave enough for it at all.

 

Gaius didn’t want Merlin to tell anyone about his gift, but if Merlin was to have at least a chance at being with Arthur and starting a romantic relationship, he needed to show him that he trusted him.

 

Not that it mattered anymore. Even if Arthur had had feelings for him at some point, they were gone now. That realization hurt – the thought stabbed at him like a knife to the heart, but it was something he had to come to terms with. Yes, he was a liar, but he didn’t want to lie to himself.

 

This wouldn’t get better. He’d ruined it. All of it.

 

The only thing he knew was that Arthur wouldn’t turn Merlin in and bring him back to Camelot, to his father and the witchfinder. If Arthur had proved anything over the last two days, it was that he was adamant to follow Merlin wherever he decided to go. No matter what had caused him to leave Camelot in the first place.

 

However, now that Arthur knew about his magic, Merlin feared that he’d leave him once they found a good place to settle. He’d leave him and return to Camelot - and Merlin wouldn’t blame him, he'd even be glad. Because if Arthur decided to stay with him and live a normal peasant life with him, he’d be giving up his destiny and Merlin couldn’t let that happen. Of all people, he could never be the one to stand in the way of Arthur’s destiny.

 

And so, as soon as Arthur decided to leave him, Merlin would have to live out the rest of his days . . . alone. He would deserve it, after all that lying and pretending. He loved Arthur, that was true, and he’d find some way to check on the prince as often as he could, but he’d probably never talk to him again. That was his new future – inevitable.

 

Merlin sighed again and stood up. Since he hadn’t fallen asleep in the last hour, it wasn’t likely that he would now. He used his magic to make the fire a tiny bit smaller, just in case someone came across them and meant to do Arthur harm. Then he added another spell, cloaking the camp in an invisible shield of magic so that Arthur would be undoubtedly safe as he slept

 

Merlin didn’t want to leave again. He promised Arthur he wouldn’t, and he had every intention of returning there and trying to get some sleep for the rest of the night, but he needed to clear his head.

 

There was no chance he’d fall asleep if he kept thinking about the things that were circling around in his head.

 

He took one last look at Arthur, making sure that he was still soundly sleeping - he was. Merlin could even hear the snores that he was so used to. He’d miss them, once Arthur left him.

 

Turning away from the sleeping prince, Merlin moved over to the horse and took a moment to pat him soothingly. Then he stepped farther off into the forest, leaving behind the invisible magical bubble that surrounded the campsite. He missed being in nature. But waking Arthur up in the morning and then spending his entire day by his side was something he liked even more.

 

Nevertheless, he kept walking and walking, away from Arthur and from his problems, missing Arthur more and more and missing how they used to be. He looked up at the moon - it was bright, shining down at everything around him and illuminating his face. He almost tripped over a root as he kept walking, face still turned towards the night sky.

 

Just as he thought of turning back, he heard a sound behind him.

 

“Arthur?” he whispered as he turned around, trying to make something out of all the shapes of twigs and trees in the dark. Wasn’t he too far away from their camp anyway? Would Arthur even follow him? What if he did and he was angry because he thought Merlin had left him again!

 

Merlin’s eyes widened as that possibility crossed his mind. But when he listened and didn’t hear anything else, he dismissed it as a bird or some small animal, and he looked up at the sky again. There were a lot of clouds now, covering more than half of the moon.

 

Suddenly, he heard someone move behind him. It wasn’t an animal, and it definitely wasn’t Arthur, because before he could turn around and face his enemy, something cold and tight closed around his wrists.

 

Merlin gasped and quickly turned around, staring right into the eyes of a man. A knight of Camelot, judging by the red cloak around his shoulders.

 

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” he heard him whisper. And he recognized that voice immediately.

 

“Sir Leon?”

 

With apologetic eyes, Sir Leon turned away from him, bringing Merlin with him by his wrists. Only now Merlin noticed a strange feeling in his hands - it didn’t hurt much, but it was very uncomfortable, as if some kind of magic caused it.

 

His eyes widened when he realized what was happening.

 

“Search for the prince as well, he’s also missing,” Leon ordered the other knights. “And find us as soon as you can, we’re returning to Camelot immediately.” Two of them nodded and left, thankfully going in the opposite direction than where their camp was. They must have assumed Merlin was returning there, if they thought he was with Arthur.

 

Leon then yanked at the handcuffs gently, prompting Merlin to move as he started walking back where they came from.

 

And sure enough, just as Merlin feared he’d see, when the moon shone down on his hands, there were metal handcuffs around his wrists. They were covered in druid marks and different words and symbols of the language of the Old Religion. Even though Merlin couldn’t read all of them, he could safely guess the meaning.

 

They were supposed to bind his magic and prevent him from using it.

 

Now he really was a dead man. These handcuffs had surely been given to Leon by Kaunos – Merlin had never seen Uther use them before. Experimentally, he tried to use a spell to break himself free. He whispered, “ _Tospringe_ ,” under his breath.

 

A sharp pain ran through his whole body, bringing him down to his knees with a scream.

 

Leon stopped and knelt down next to him. “Merlin,” he said, his eyes widening. “Did you try to use magic?” Merlin only nodded, the pain still sharp. “Don’t do that, it will only hurt you.”

 

“Yeah, I get that now,” Merlin nodded with his eyes still closed tight.

 

“So he is a sorcerer,” muttered one of the other knights, leaning towards one of the others. “Finally - I’ve never seen one in my life.”

 

Leon frowned at them. “That’s enough.” Then he turned to Merlin again. “Can you walk?”

 

Merlin nodded. “I think so.” The pain was quickly growing dull, but he could still feel it. It didn’t affect his ability to walk, though, so he stood up again and nodded at Leon.

 

Together, they started walking back to the horses, and back to Camelot.

 

Now, there was truly no hope for Merlin. He would leave Arthur during the night again, and he’d return to Camelot against his will.

 

He was being led to his death.

 

 

  

 

 

 

The first thing Arthur heard when he woke up was his horse. His stallion was sniffing around, trying to make noise and wake him up because he was probably hungry. Which meant that Merlin hadn't fed him, and Arthur didn’t feel like standing up yet.

 

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur moaned, not even bothering to open his eyes as he rolled over. He was facing the fire now - it must have stopped burning during the night.

 

The horse made another noise, but there was no other sound. No complaining, no name-calling, no flurry of motion as a certain someone grumpily stood up to feed the horse. Arthur frowned at the strange absence of his companion and yawned, finally opening his eyes.

 

The fire had burned out, just like Arthur had expected, but there was no one around. Just an empty space all around Arthur, nothing but trees, twigs and the horse.

 

Arthur looked around, and suddenly everything came back to him.

 

The bandits. The running away from Camelot without any good reason. Finally finding out the reason. Merlin using magic on him. Merlin promising he wouldn’t leave him again-

 

The prince looked around the camp. Merlin wasn’t there.

 

Deep in Arthur's chest, an icy cold was spreading – it felt as if frostbite were growing over his heart and leaving it brittle, ready to crack and shatter at the slightest touch. Merlin was gone - he'd broken his promise. He’d left Arthur alone in the woods, just like the night before. Merlin lied to him about _so many_ things. As sadness pooled inside him, weighing at his heart, Arthur realized that Merlin could not be trusted. Not even when every fiber of Arthur's being screamed that he was wrong, that Merlin was a good and loyal friend, that he was the person that Arthur had fallen in love with . . . despite everything, the evidence proved otherwise.

 

Arthur took a deep breath and looked at the horse sadly. The stallion only neighed again while looking at him intently. Arthur’s shoulders slumped and he stood up, looking at the spot where Merlin would still be sleeping if he hadn’t left him.

 

And then it hit him. Merlin’s backpack! It was still there! Arthur’s eyes widened and he picked it up, looking around. There was nothing else. This was the only thing that Merlin had packed as he was leaving Camelot and it was the only thing he wouldn’t leave behind.

 

And that meant only one thing. Merlin, being incredibly stupid as always, must have left the camp – maybe going for a walk, or . . .

 

_The knights had found him._

 

The thought came to him unbidden – the realization hit him like a slap in the face, his heart suddenly racing in his chest. He looked around one more time and yelled, “Merlin!”, but only more silence was his answer.

 

He had to move fast. He threw Merlin’s backpack over his shoulder, packed his and Merlin’s blankets that they’d slept in and then strode over to the horse. There was one thing he couldn’t figure out though. If the knights had found Merlin and brought him back to Camelot, how the hell did they not find Arthur as well? And wasn’t Merlin strong enough to beat them? He was strong enough to deal with over ten bandits on his own only two days before . . .

 

Arthur found an apple in his saddlebag and gave it to his horse, patting its neck. “You’re gonna need it, boy,” he told him. He fed the stallion one more apple before finally pulling himself up onto his back. Arthur was determined to get back to Camelot as fast as he could, then find Merlin, and bring him back to safety.

 

No matter how angry Arthur was at Merlin for his lies, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Not before, not now, not ever. He’d never forgive himself if he stood by and did nothing as Merlin died. And now if his father had him, death was his inevitable fate - he’d be executed. Perhaps even burned alive. And Arthur couldn’t allow that. No matter what the cost.

 

He kicked his horse and urged him to move, finally leaving their camp.

 

Suddenly, the surrounding silence that the area had been enveloped in was abruptly shattered – all at once, the usual sounds of the forest hit him in a wave. Arthur brought his horse to a sudden halt, ignoring its neigh of annoyance as he looked around. He could hear the animals, the wind, everything else that was normal to a forest. Only now he realized that he truly hadn’t heard anything besides the horse before. There must have been some sort of a barrier around the camp . . .

 

Together with the sound, a strange wave of warmth overwhelmed him as he left the camp. It was strange but familiar – and the feeling had started at exactly the same time as the sounds of the forest had returned.

 

His eyes widened as he realized what it was. He’d felt it before - when he woke up and found Merlin staring at him with gold eyes. It was the same feeling that had stopped just as Merlin’s irises faded back to blue.

 

It must have been Merlin’s _magic_. There was no other explanation for it.

 

Arthur couldn’t believe it. After everything that’s happened, after all that betrayal and lies, Merlin’s magic felt like this - warm and welcoming. It was a feeling that would stay with him in his heart, just like the love he felt for the boy.

 

But there was no time to think about that now. He kicked his horse again and they set off, galloping across the forest, heading to Camelot.

 

Back home.

 

 

 

 

 

They traveled through the whole night, not stopping for any reason. Every knight had a horse - only Merlin had to walk on his own. Thankfully, Leon led the group and chose to ride slowly so that Merlin could keep up, for which Merlin would be forever grateful.

 

They passed the same meadows he and Arthur had ridden through, the same rock where he’d found the cave to hide in for the first night, on and on until they reached the cliff with the view of Camelot. They didn’t even stop to admire the view (which was something that Merlin never failed to do), instead continuing down the road straight to the castle.

 

No one talked. Not even Leon. Either they didn’t know what to say, or they were all tired thanks to their time out searching for him.

 

By the time they finally reached the castle and rode through the gates, it was early morning. The group didn't stop for anything – one of the knights hurried ahead to tell the king of their arrival, while the rest followed at their original steady pace. Before he knew it, Merlin was on his way to the throne room, awaiting an audience with the king - an unfair trial.

 

The king didn’t care why he had or used magic, after all. He didn’t care that he’d saved Arthur's life with his magic, countless times. He saw magic as one thing and one thing only - pure evil that was meant to be destroyed.

 

Leon pushed the door open for him and they entered the throne room.

 

Uther was sitting on his throne, his eyes not only full of sadness over losing Morgana (a sadness that had been present in his eyes ever since she disappeared), but now set alight by a newfound anger and satisfaction.

 

On his left, standing beside the throne was a man who had to be the witchfinder - Kaunos. This was the first time that Merlin had laid eyes on him, and he was surprised by how young he looked. The evil smirk on his face could not have been mistaken for anything else though. There was no doubt about it - he was the one who discovered Merlin was a sorcerer and he was pleased about it to no end.

 

“Here he is,” Uther said as he stood up and narrowed his eyes. “The sorcerer who had been poisoning my kingdom.”

 

Merlin didn’t even know what to say. There was no doubt he was going to die and there was nothing that could be done to change that. Arthur didn’t trust him anymore, and his attempt at running away had come to nothing.

 

His life didn’t mean much without Arthur anyway. And now he would die before Arthur could even realize where he'd gone or what had happened. At this very moment, he was probably awake, angry and wondering why Merlin had left him again.

 

The thought saddened Merlin even more, and the feeling of hopelessness only grew.

 

“I have only ever used magic in Camelot to protect the prince,” said Merlin, his voice cracking despite his defensive tone. Glancing to the side, he caught sight of two familiar faces – Gwen and Gaius were in the room as well. Gwen was crying.

 

“Lies!” shouted Uther, a terrible scowl distorting his features. “To even think that I made you my son’s manservant -” he sneered at him, “while all along, you have been planning the destruction of Camelot.”

 

“Why would I want to destroy my home?” Merlin asked. Uther didn’t even make sense anymore, all he saw was illogical evil in every person with even the slightest potential for magical abilities.

 

“You are a sorcerer,” Uther said. As if that made everything clear. As if the fact that Merlin possessed this power somehow justified all of this. Merlin watched distantly as Uther turned to Kaunos with a nod – the witchfinder responded with a smile, handing the king something that Merlin couldn't see. When Uther turned back to face the throne room, Merlin glimpsed the object in his hands. It was the magical staff of the Sidhe!

 

Did he leave that in Camelot? He really was an idiot, wasn’t he? There was nothing he regretted more than forgetting about that stupid piece of wood.

 

“This was found in your chambers,” said the king. “A weapon that can only be wielded by powerful sorcerers.”

 

Merlin hadn't even known about that.

 

“This isn’t a trial,” Uther continued. “You deserve no such thing.” He handed the staff back to Kaunos behind him, and then turned to glare at the young warlock once again. The truth was clear in Uther's furious eyes – Merlin knew that the decision had already been made. “You are found guilty,” Uther told him. And though Merlin knew what was coming – even though he'd known this whole time – he still felt tears sting at his eyes as Uther said the final words.

 

“By the laws of Camelot, I hereby sentence you to death.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SPELLS**  
>   
> 
> \- _"Tospringe"_ \- It means "open quickly" and was used for example in episodes 2x01 The Curse of Cornelius Sigan, when Merlin escapes from the cell, or in 2x03 The Nightmare Beings, when Merlin blows off the gate.


	6. The One Most Powerful

The cell was cold, wet, and miserable – from the first moment that Merlin set foot inside, he'd felt like he was suffocating. There wasn't enough light coming from the tiniest window that he found above his head on the wall of the cell, and it was almost too cold. Thankfully, the wall at least served as a shield against the strong wind that had picked up again in the morning – while the tiny window wasn't very good at letting in light, it was instead a little too good at letting in a draft. But other than that and a lot of hay on the ground, there was nothing.

 

The dungeons were one place where Merlin had hoped he’d never find himself again. And look where he was now - hugging his legs, leaning against the corner where the two walls met, enveloped in hay and trying to keep himself warm.

 

Life was hard when he couldn’t use magic.

 

And the only thing preventing him from using it were those damn handcuffs. Merlin didn’t even know how long he'd been staring at them. Their presence was infuriating – they remained tight against his wrists, restricting his movement and preventing him from focusing on anything else. It was almost driving him mad.

 

Not only were his hands scratched - no matter how gently Leon tried to lock them around Merlin’s wrists, it almost felt like they kept tightening their grip on him. Nothing felt worse than having them there.

 

There was some sort of enchantment used on them. Merlin came to that realization after a while – the way that they were constantly drawing his attention back to them was too strange. It meant that he couldn’t even try to stop thinking about them. And the feeling that was slowly spreading from them through his entire body, slowly and agonizingly turning into a slight burning sensation, almost pain . . . Merlin didn’t know how long he could last. Without being able to use his magic to get rid of them, he didn’t even know how long it would take for him to start banging his head against the wall in frustration or trembling in pain if it started hurting more.

 

At least for now it was kind of bearable.

 

He sighed and dropped his head into his palms. What was he doing? He was about to die and all he cared about were some stupid handcuffs that might kill him, but not sooner than the fire. (He saw the pyre being built in the courtyard - he knew what was coming for him.)

 

There was one thing he had to at least try to turn his thoughts toward. Something far more important.

 

 _Arthur_.

 

Because if Merlin was dead, who’d take care of him? Gaius wasn’t as strong as he used to be and he might not be able to save Arthur if it was needed. He couldn’t even travel with Arthur wherever he went, like Merlin used to do.

 

Merlin _needed_ to stay alive for Arthur. But Arthur didn’t care about him anymore, not like Merlin still did. Even if Arthur figured out that Merlin had been taken back to Camelot, Merlin didn’t really count on the possibility of Arthur coming here in time.

 

He would die the very next morning. And even if Arthur made it back to Camelot in time, there was still a question if he’d even want to save Merlin.

 

Merlin would slap himself if he could right now. He shouldn’t be thinking things like that - Arthur hadn't hurt him this morning after being woken by Merlin's magic, even though he had drawn his sword. Instead he'd taken care of his wound, cared for him – even with all of his anger. If that didn’t prove that he still thought of Merlin as a friend and would try to save him, Merlin didn’t know what else could.

 

But what could Arthur do? He couldn’t do anything against Uther. He’d be forced to watch Merlin burn at the stake.

 

Merlin shook his head as he thought about that. He couldn’t allow that to happen. But then again, what choices did he have? He was imprisoned and sentenced to death and without his magic, he was _nothing._ Not even Gaius would be allowed to visit him - Uther would surely have made sure of that. So there was no help coming from him either.

 

The young warlock sighed and closed his eyes. Then he took a deep breath and looked around his cell - this was the last room he’d see in his short life. The last view of Camelot he’d get - they didn’t even stop at his favourite place in the forest as they traveled back to the castle. The view there would have been breathtaking, Merlin knew it.

 

As he closed his eyes again, he heard a rattling sound. As if someone was walking with a set of jangling keys in hand. Then someone cleared his throat and Merlin finally willed himself to lift his head, tearing his mind away from the handcuffs that his thoughts had unintentionally drifted towards again.

 

And there he was. Kaunos. Standing in front of him with that satisfied smirk on his face again.

 

“We haven’t had a chance to talk yet,” he said.

 

Merlin eyed him up and down, noticing nothing interesting about him, only the book that he was holding with his arm against his torso. His eyes were fixed on Merlin and Merlin alone. It gave Merlin chills to even look at him.

 

“I don’t think I want to talk to you,” he replied.

 

“Well, I don’t think you have a choice.”

 

That was true. Merlin sighed and nodded, putting his hands down to his lap and stretching out his legs in front of him. Thank god his legs weren’t tied up as well.

 

“Finally.” Kaunos smiled and, to Merlin’s surprise, sat down in front of the bars. When he turned back at Merlin, he looked pleased. “Don’t think I’m afraid of you - I’m not.”

 

“I didn’t think you were.”

 

“Those handcuffs are amazing, aren’t they?” he smiled, ignoring Merlin completely. “The people who made them for me did a magnificent job. This is only the second time I’ve used them, though - but they do seem to work quite wonderfully.”

 

Merlin pursed his lips. “They’re annoying,” he told him, “and if you didn’t know, they _hurt_.”

 

Kaunos raised his eyebrow, much like Gaius. Without a word, he opened the book he was holding and wrote something down with a quill that had been hidden between the pages.

 

Merlin raised his chin a little, but he wouldn’t be able to read anything Kaunos was writing from that distance. He was sitting in the farthest corner of the cell after all.

 

Kaunos then nodded and looked at Merlin again. “How long have you been in Camelot?”

 

“Why should I answer any of your questions?” Merlin asked instead.

 

Kaunos nodded again, with a slight smile on his lips. “We both know you’re going to die tomorrow. You’ve got nothing to lose. So why not answer a few simple questions?” he shrugged at him. “The king told me that you’ve been a manservant to the prince for over two years now. Correct?”

 

“Why are you asking me when you know the answer anyway?” Merlin pointed out. Before Kaunos could give him any answer though, his stomach made a loud growl.

 

“You’re hungry,” Kaunos observed. “You won’t be getting another meal, though. You’ll last until tomorrow morning.” Merlin brought his knees closer, resting his chin on them as he listened to the witchfinder. “Now, another question. Why are you in Camelot? Why are you here, the only place that would kill you if you let your magic slip?”

 

“Well, it’s a beautiful castle,” Merlin said. He didn’t want to reveal the fact that his mother sent him to Camelot. They might come looking for her too, and he couldn’t allow that. But it made him realize that . . . He would not get the chance to say goodbye to her.

 

“Is that why you were planning to take over the throne?”

 

Merlin frowned. “I never planned to do that,” he said. “It’s my home and I like living here. Why would I try to destroy it? Besides, I’m not fit to be a king, I’d much rather be a normal citizen.”

 

“And yet you work for the prince,” Kaunos told him, narrowing his eyes. “That’s suspiciously close to the royal family.”

 

“I had no intention to work for Arthur when I came here,” Merlin rolled his eyes.

 

“Then why do you?”

 

“Coincidence?” He knew it was destiny, but Kaunos would never understand the lengths Merlin was willing to go to for Arthur. He’d never understand their relationship. Not even now, when Merlin had destroyed it with his lies.

 

“What happened?”

 

“I saved his life,” Merlin nodded slightly. “And the king made me Arthur’s manservant as a reward. I didn’t agree at first, and neither did Arthur, but . . . “

 

“But?” Kaunos demanded.

 

This was a chance. Well, a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. Kaunos was listening to him and writing a few things down as he talked. He seemed to believe him. Maybe if he told him how much he cared about Arthur . . .

 

Merlin looked Kaunos in the eye and said, “But now we’re friends and I’d never do anything to hurt him.”

 

“Maybe not you, but what about your magic?” Kaunos smirked.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Merlin, magic is evil. You might think that it’s good, but you’d be wrong. It is an evil source of power, capable of only destruction.”

 

Merlin stood up once he heard that. “That’s not true,” he told him with a frown. “Magic is neither good nor bad, it’s only a power. And I decide to use it for good, to protect Arthur.”

 

Kaunos’ smirk didn't even flicker.

 

“I’m telling the truth!” he yelled. He knew he wasn’t helping the situation anymore. If he ever even had been.

 

“Even if you managed to use magic to heal someone for example, it wouldn’t change what magic is at its core. It corrupts the person that wields it.” Kaunos seemed pretty convinced he was right.

 

“Look, I care about Arthur, okay? I care about him and I know that one day he’s going to be a great king. And I’d never hurt him, _ever_! I even saved his father many times, even though I didn’t want to - I did it for Arthur.”

 

“Interesting,” Kaunos noted, but did not stand up. “You don’t address your prince properly,” he mused. Then he wrote something down again, with his eyes raised.

 

“What did you write down?” Merlin asked, frowning. Suddenly, his desperation was gone, replaced by panic. Did Kaunos figure out how Merlin felt about Arthur? Was that what he'd written down? Would Arthur read it?

 

“That is not of your concern,” Kaunos replied without raising his head.

 

Merlin started walking closer to him and the bars to look down into his diary.

 

“Hey,” someone called from the door, his voice firm. When Merlin looked up, he found that the voice belonged to a guard. He didn’t even notice that someone else had been in the room with them, keeping an eye on him. “Stand back.”

 

Merlin stopped and looked down at Kaunos from where he was standing. Kaunos was already looking at him, still sitting with a smirk on his face. But at least now Merlin could see that Kaunos was writing in red ink for some reason.

 

“This kingdom is poisoned with magic, Merlin,” Kaunos said, “and it’s everywhere. I can almost feel it. And you’re quite powerful, I must admit, but you can’t be the only source of sorcery in Camelot. Tell me, do you know of anyone else?”

 

Merlin’s mind immediately went to Morgana, but she was still gone, somewhere with Morgause. She couldn’t be the other source. And even though there was plenty of creatures of magic attacking Camelot and evil sorcerers that Merlin had to defeat, none of them stayed for long. Merlin always saved the day.

 

So he shook his head. “There’s no one else.”

 

“Hm,” Kaunos fished out a paper from the back of his book. “This is a record of every magical activity in this kingdom. It’s all mainly just creatures of magic, including the great dragon that used to be trapped under the castle,” he said, “so let me clarify the question: is there anyone or _anything_ of magical nature that you know about in Camelot?”

 

Merlin shook his head again, although he was surprised that Uther told him about the dragon. “No,” he answered.

 

“Alright then,” Kaunos nodded. “Where did you get that staff?”

 

“Why would I tell you? You probably already know where I got it, thanks to the king. He knows the answer, after all.”

 

“So it did belong to the quick visitors of Camelot, lady Sophia and her father Aulfric?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And how did you get it?” Kaunos continued with his rather tiring questioning.

 

“Sophia tried to enchant Arthur and sacrifice him to the Sidhe. She herself was a Sidhe, and so was her father - and according to what I’d overheard, they both wanted to earn passage back to their old home. But the price for them to return was a prince's soul – Sophia wanted to sacrifice Arthur to pay it. And I couldn’t allow that,” Merlin quickly explained. “So I used the staff to kill her father and then her, and I saved Arthur, who’d already almost drowned in a lake.” He looked at Kaunos again. “See? I don’t want to harm him, I’m not evil.”

 

“I really doubt that,” Kaunos only cleared his throat.

 

Merlin sighed loudly and closed his eyes. This was ridiculous. If he was supposed to die, why not already? These handcuffs were slowly becoming worse than the fire. “Argh,” he sighed in frustration and pain as he held his wrists close to his stomach.

 

Kaunos observed him with a frown on his face. Then something in his expression changed and he stood up abruptly.

 

“Have you ever lived with the druids?” he asked. His voice was uncharacteristically high and yet rough.

 

Merlin was a bit confused, but he shook his head.

 

“Have you heard of-” he stopped himself and glanced behind him at the guard, who straightened himself up, staying alert. Kaunos looked back at Merlin and then into his book. He closed it. “What did you say about the prince’s future again?”

 

Merlin frowned at that and tried to remember. “Uh, that he’s going to be a great king one day? And that’s why I don’t want to hurt him, don’t you see? I’m not-”

 

“No,” Kaunos cut him off, his eyes wide. Then he looked down at Merlin’s wrists. Merlin was still clutching them close to his stomach – the handcuffs seemed to be growing tighter every minute, the painful discomfort only increasing. It was a light throbbing that he knew would only get stronger with time.

 

“Those aren’t supposed to hurt,” Kaunos mumbled under his breath, but Merlin heard him.

 

“What?”

 

“Keep an eye on him,” Kaunos ordered the guard who nodded, and then he ran out of the room. Merlin could still hear him running up the stairs as he went to sit down to the corner again.

 

The cell was still cold and wet, only now, Merlin felt even more confused. Kaunos had run away as if he’d realized something important, and Merlin couldn’t for the love of Camelot figure out what it might have been.

 

The guard kept staring at him with his one hand on the hilt of his sword, and Merlin only sighed.

 

He turned away from the guard and lay down, gathering the hay around his legs and back to keep him warm. Then he closed his eyes and tried to get some rest.

 

He’d been traveling the whole night, after all. And who knew what would happen once Kaunos returned.

 

 

 

 

It took Arthur several hours and the entire morning to finally get a glimpse of the white castle he called home. He stopped on the cliff at the end of the forest, just looking at Camelot and wondering if he was too late. But he didn’t see any smoke - neither white nor black, which meant that Merlin was still alive.

 

He hated that he had to think about that. About the smoke. It made the reality of the entire situation even more apparent. Merlin had been taken, arrested, and almost definitely sentenced to death – and Arthur would have to find him, before it was too late. And then . . . Arthur would have to find some way to rescue him, or perhaps stop the execution. Which was probably going to be the hardest thing, judging by his father’s opinion about magic.

 

Arthur kicked his horse and started down the road that led straight to Camelot. He should be there in about half an hour, but he still wanted to go faster, so he urged his horse to speed up.

 

Of course, he still felt betrayed by Merlin. To be honest, he had no idea what he’d do once he rescued him - and that was a _once_ and not an _if._ Because he would never forgive himself if something happened to Merlin. But _once_ he rescued him, he didn’t know what to do.

 

Should he run away with Merlin and never return to Camelot?

 

Should he stay in Camelot and let Merlin escape, never seeing him again?

 

Arthur couldn’t even think about the latter. Leaving Merlin and never being able to see his smile again . . . it felt like an impossible scenario. He’d miss Merlin with all his heart - he was still in love with him, after all - but Merlin was the traitor here, even though he claimed he used his magic for good.

 

One thing was sure - Arthur needed more information. He needed to know what exactly Merlin used his magic for, how he learned it, and he needed to know more about magic itself. And about Merlin. Now that he knew he had magic . . . He felt like he didn’t know anything about him.

 

He felt as if everything Merlin had ever told him had been a lie.

 

Arthur hoped that what they had had between them right before everything changed - the way Merlin used to smile at him, smirk at him, watch him while he dressed and blush - he hoped that _that_ was real. That _that_ was the real Merlin and that once they figured everything out and fixed their entire relationship and maybe even started over . . . He hoped that they could get back to how things used to be only two days ago.

 

It took him less time than he’d thought to get to the main gate. The first thing that caught his attention was the huge pyre that the knights were building. The base was already half finished and they were collecting more wood from the forest to finish it. It made Arthur’s throat close tightly.

 

He dismounted his horse before they even came to a halt, quickly tossing the reins to a stable boy that rushed up to greet him.

 

The first person he saw was Sir Leon. He looked incredulous as he made his way to Arthur.

 

“Sire,” he bowed his head slightly, “if you don’t mind me asking, where have you been? The king and knights had been looking for you, including myself.”

 

Arthur paled slightly. He hadn’t thought about this part - having to lie because he’d already decided that turning Merlin in was _not_ an option.

 

“Well, I was on a hunting trip,” he frowned at Leon. “I thought- I thought my father knew that.”

 

Leon only shook his head, “No, we all thought you’d gone with Merlin.”

 

Arthur tried to force a frown and then shook his head, hoping that his expression was one of confusion. “I have to speak to my father, where is he?” he asked instead. If there was one man capable of stopping an execution, then it was him.

 

Leon nodded and stepped aside, bowing his head, “he should just be finishing a council meeting, sire.”

 

“Thank you,” Arthur nodded and left Leon on the courtyard.

 

As he made his way up the stairs to the balcony halls in the castle above the courtyard, he was both glad and terrified that he already saw Uther approaching him. When the king noticed him, he seemed angry. Arthur swallowed, but prepared himself for another lie.

 

“Arthur!” Uther strode over to him. Two lords were standing behind him, but he raised his hand and they left them alone in the hall. Arthur took a deep breath as he stood in front of his father. “Where have you been? I sent a searching party after you and the sorcerer, after Kaunos had told me he had seen you leave Camelot.”

 

“I was on a hunting trip,” Arthur frowned, trying to look convincing. “And I told Merlin to tell you . . . What sorcerer? And where’s Merlin?”

 

Uther’s expression changed immediately. He motioned for Arthur to move, so they started walking wherever Uther wanted and Arthur walked by his side. “Merlin, your manservant . . . is a sorcerer, Arthur.”

 

“What?”

 

Uther nodded. “Kaunos found a strange magical staff under his bed and he himself didn’t deny it. He managed to escape into the forest, but we found him and now he’s imprisoned, awaiting execution.”

 

Arthur was silent for a moment, trying to decide on what to say. “Um, when is he going to be executed?”

 

Uther stopped and turned to him. “Tomorrow morning,” he answered.

 

Arthur swallowed, distinctly aware of his heart pounding faster against his rib cage. He had to save Merlin somehow. He couldn’t just watch him die, not even after everything that’s happened. This was exactly why Merlin had left Camelot and left Arthur only with a letter – to prevent all of this from happening. But now? He was captured and rotting in a dirty cell, used for thieves and criminals. He was no such thing. He was a sorcerer and Arthur needed so many of his questions answered, but Merlin did _not_ belong into the dungeons.

 

He opened his mouth and then closed it. Looking at Uther, at his face and the satisfaction in his eyes . . . It all meant one thing - he could never be persuaded into letting Merlin go. He’d never pardon him, even if he knew that Merlin had saved his life – even if he knew that Merlin had saved _Uther's_ own life. Arthur was sure that if Merlin had been protecting him all this time, then he'd probably been protecting Uther too.

 

“Where is he now?” he asked instead, trying to force his features into a scowl of anger. “I’d like to talk to him.”

 

Uther narrowed his eyes. “Do you really think that is a good idea?”

 

Arthur nodded. “He betrayed me,” he told him, deliberately raising his voice with pretend fury. “and I need to see him, need an explanation.”

 

“He’s a sorcerer, Arthur - no explanation he could give you would make any sense.”

 

“Where is he?” Arthur repeated his question and was relieved when Uther finally nodded.

 

“East wing of the castle, the only occupied cell. You’ll find him there.”

 

“Thank you, father,” Arthur turned away, but Uther grabbed his forearm.

 

“Be careful, Arthur,” he told him. “He’s powerful.”

 

Arthur nodded and turned away from Uther, every step taking him inevitably closer to seeing Merlin’s face again. God, he couldn’t even imagine how hard it must have been, how Merlin must have been feeling - to sit in an empty cell awaiting execution must be horrible. To know that you were going to die in a couple of hours. But thankfully, Arthur still had the rest of the day and the night to work on the escape plan. It was barely afternoon. Thank god Arthur woke up early today and had more time to get to Camelot.

 

As soon as he moved far enough away from his father, he sped up his pace and, in a few minutes, reached the dungeons. He went down the stairs and was met by the guards.

 

“Sire,” they mumbled, both bowing.

 

“I’m here to see M- the sorcerer,” he told them, clearing his throat. The guards looked at each other, a little unsure, and Arthur raised his voice with authority. “My father sent me. Now let me through.”

 

The guards finally stepped aside, muttering, “Yes, sire,” and Arthur entered the chamber that held all of the cells. The first one was where Merlin was - he could see his small body curled into a ball, lying on the ground, facing the cold stone wall. It was heartbreaking to see him like this, and Arthur felt all his previous anger leave his body. How could he hate Merlin? How could he ever hate him?

 

The guards had followed Arthur through – he felt their presence at his back and glanced back at them, saying, “Leave us alone.”

 

“But, sire-”

 

“ _Leave us._ ” Arthur turned around to face them, frowning pointedly. They nodded and left, closing the door. As soon as they were gone, Arthur closed his eyes briefly and sighed. Only then did he dare turn around.

 

Merlin was already looking at him. He was still lying on the ground, with his back turned to Arthur and there was slight fear and relief in his eyes. “Arthur,” he whispered with a ghost of a smile on his lips. Then his smile disappeared though and he turned away again.

 

“Merlin,” Arthur sighed and walked over to the cell, grabbing the bars tightly. He didn’t even know what to say now that he was finally with Merlin again. Should they talk about his magic? Should they pretend that the previous night had never happened? That would be very hard to do, considering that Merlin was locked up.

 

“I didn’t think you’d arrive so early,” Merlin muttered. “Or at all.”

 

“It might surprise you, but even after your betrayal, I don’t really want you to die,” Arthur admitted.

 

Merlin shrugged. What Arthur heard next sounded suspiciously close to a muffled sniff. It was heartbreaking to see Merlin like this.

 

“There’s not much you can do,” Merlin told him. Arthur could barely hear him. “Your father already ordered your knights to build a pyre - I’m going to burn tomorrow morning.”

 

“You sound like it doesn’t even bother you,” Arthur frowned. Merlin just sounded . . . defeated. Tired. He was not like the Merlin that Arthur had thought he knew, not at all.

 

Arthur stole a glance over his shoulder, checking the door – still closed – before turning back to Merlin, lowering his voice. “I plan to get you out. Somehow.”

 

“Good luck with that . . . Kaunos and Uther made sure that there’s no way for me to escape. They both want me dead,” he sighed and slowly sat up, turning towards Arthur and leaning against the wall. His eyes were slightly red-rimmed now and he held up his arms to show Arthur that his hands were tied up. He was cuffed. “These prevent me from using magic,” he sighed. His voice and breath were shaking as he continued talking. “There’s no point in having any hope, Arthur. I betrayed you and the kingdom, and now I’m going to pay for my crimes.” He closed his eyes tightly for a moment and sniffled again.

 

Arthur pushed his face into the bars, wanting to get even the slightest bit closer. He couldn’t believe his eyes were beginning to sting. He blinked to get rid of the tears. “Didn’t you say you used your magic to help me?” he tried to reason with him. A Merlin that only wanted to give up was not the Merlin he needed right now.

 

“You believe me?” Merlin asked instead.

 

Arthur was silent for a moment, but then he nodded. “I know you’d never hurt me,” he admitted. “Just like I know that you don’t want to die, not really. You won’t give up just like that. Even though I say so often, you’re not actually a girl’s petticoat.”

 

That made Merlin laugh slightly. But then his eyes filled with more tears and his lip was trembling. He tried to bite it down to keep it from shaking, but it wasn’t helping. It was as if the reality of his quickly approaching execution had only just now begun to dawn on him.

 

“I’ll find a way,” Arthur reassured him. “I’ll find a way, I promise, and then we’ll talk about everything.”

 

“I hope you don't fall asleep in that conversation - there’s _a lot_ to talk about,” Merlin joked, smiling slightly. Arthur was relieved to see that Merlin hadn’t lost all hope, not completely. And that he trusted him with this even when previously it seemed like he didn’t.

 

“Arthur?” Merlin asked weakly.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can we . . . “ Merlin bit down his lip and then looked up at him with his glassy eyes. He used his both hands to first point at himself and then at Arthur. “Can we fix _this_? Even after everything I’ve done? Even after all those lies and secrets? Can things just . . . be like they used to?”

 

Arthur took a second to think about that. Yes, he felt betrayed and he blamed Merlin for it and if Merlin wasn’t about to die, he’d be angrier than ever before. But he knew there were way too many unanswered questions and things he needed to understand and ultimately, he wanted nothing more than to get back to normal, to how they used to be. But he wasn’t sure if they could get there. At least not at first, not until they talked about everything they needed to talk about.

 

“I don’t know,” said Arthur, shaking his head. When Merlin closed his eyes and looked down, Arthur added, “but I hope they can.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin told him.

 

Arthur only shook his head again. “We’ll talk about that later,” he said. “Now we need to work out how to save you.”

 

Merlin nodded.

 

  

 

 

As soon as Kaunos left the dungeons, he headed for his chambers. Once he was there, he closed the door, dropping his diary onto the table and opening it to a marked page. Hurrying over to his library, he found the few books that he needed and brought them back to the table, taking a deep breath.

 

Could this really be happening? Could it be that his life goal was so close? That the one thing he wished to find the most was sitting in the dungeons of Camelot, right beneath the castle?

 

He needed to be sure. But if it was true, if he was right about this . . . Then he needed to tell the king immediately.

 

“Here we go,” he mumbled to himself as he looked into the diary. He had used red ink to write into it because he already knew that Merlin was a sorcerer. He quickly skimmed over the questions that he’d asked him and over the answers that he’d written down.

 

Merlin’s been a servant to prince Arthur for over two years. Why was he in Camelot? Kaunos didn’t know the answer to that, but he planned to visit Merlin again. Merlin also claimed he had never tried to take over the throne and that he just liked living in Camelot because it was a beautiful castle. Kaunos smirked at the mere thought of that - it was obviously a lie. But he might just have an answer to that if his assumptions were correct . . . Merlin also claimed he didn’t know of any other sorcerers in Camelot. That was another rather obvious lie, but Kaunos’ research was thorough and if there was any other sorcerer living in this kingdom, he’d know it as soon as he entered their house.

 

Merlin told him how he came to have that Sidhe staff. That was probably the only thing that Kaunos believed Merlin was telling him the truth about because Uther had told him about Sophia and Aulfric too. And according to their appearance, as witnesses had described for him, they were clearly Sidhe themselves.

 

Kaunos opened the folded piece of paper that he’d left in the diary, scanning down the page. It was the record of any magical activity in Camelot ever since the Great Purge. What was most interesting was that almost none was found until Merlin arrived and started working as the prince’s servant. Could he himself be the source for all those creatures? Excluding the dragon, who’d been imprisoned on the king’s orders?

 

When Kaunos asked him, Merlin said that he’d never lived with the druids. He looked genuine when he answered and he didn’t look like he knew much about them, but . . . That all fitted the prophecy rather well, didn’t it?

 

There were two very interesting things that Merlin told him or showed him. First of all, he said that he used magic for good and that he decided to use it to protect Arthur. He said that he _knew_ , not _thought,_ but _knew_ , that Arthur was going to be a great king one day. And he also said that the handcuffs were hurting him, when they weren’t supposed to hurt him at all, unless he tried to use magic. They were painless - a fact that Kaunos was informed about from the man who had made them for him. No sorcerer was ever going to be able to use magic with them on their hands, so why should they hurt them, too? They were mere people, corrupted by _magic._

 

But Merlin had been acting differently – staring at the handcuffs, scratching at them, holding his hands close to his body and closing his eyes as if in pain. That wasn’t pretending, Kaunos would know if he was lying. This was real. And it meant that Merlin wasn’t just a sorcerer, he was special. More powerful than Kaunos had expected.

 

For there was only one person that would ever feel pain while wearing the handcuffs. Only one person that Kaunos knew of.

 

 _Emrys_.

 

And it all fitted into the prophecy suspiciously well.

 

Kaunos opened one of the many books that he’d gathered over the years about the great prophecy of Emrys and the Once and Future King. Uther couldn’t have been the king, Merlin himself said that he only saved his life for Arthur. Which meant that Arthur was the legendary king that would one day unite the lands of Albion. Uniting the lands of Albion was a fine result of this – but the Once and Future King was also destined to bring magic back to the land, and that was something that Kaunos had to stop.

 

Magic was dangerous and the world would be much better off without it corrupting the people.

 

The witchfinder looked inside the book and flipped through the pages that he’s read so many times. They all mainly contained phrases like, “ _Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth,_ ” or, “ _he is magic itself, and magic is the fabric of this world. He is the one who will help the Once and Future King unite the lands of Albion,_ ” or even, “ _Emrys’ magic is the strongest magic in the world; he not only controls it, but he has been born with it and carries such power that could change the world for the better.”_

 

All Kaunos was taking from all of that was that Merlin was like a fire. Once he got too big, there was no stopping him.

 

And that was why this fire had to _go out_ as soon as possible.

 

There was no other way. He had to tell the king.

 

 

  

 

Gwen was standing on the courtyard, frozen as she watched the knights build the pyre for her friend. The first friend that had ever truly understood her. She grew up only with her brother as a friend, and sometimes young Leon would join them, but as they all grew older and had more work to do, more responsibilities, the world became lonelier. Especially after Elyan left.

 

After that, she found a friend in Morgana. But now that she was gone . . . Merlin was the only one she felt comfortable talking to. Merlin, Gaius and sometimes Arthur.

 

But now . . . as she stared at the pyre, transfixed, it became clear to her that that friendship was soon going to end. It would be a horrible end for Merlin.

 

She covered her mouth with her hand as she held back a sob. She had work to do - she was needed in the kitchen and later with the laundry maidservants, but the sight of the pyre made her forget all that. She couldn’t help but imagine Merlin standing in the middle of it, with flames all around.

 

Gwen still remembered how it felt when she had been sentenced to death for a crime she'd never committed. She felt alone, devastated, hopeless, and yet she was saved and survived. She knew exactly how Merlin was feeling right now, sitting in that cold cell, alone.

 

She couldn’t leave him there like that. She couldn’t let him die such a cruel death when all he'd ever done was help people. Gaius had told her about what Merlin did for the kingdom, for her and for Arthur. He hadn’t had the time to tell her everything that had happened over the past two years, but he told her a lot.

 

And Gwen couldn't have been prouder of Merlin if she tried.

 

Which was exactly why she had to save him. Magic was only a power, that’s what Gaius had told her. There was no evil in it - only in the hearts of men. Gwen understood that now.

 

And Merlin’s heart couldn’t be purer.

 

She clenched the basket in her hands and decided to take it back to the laundry room. As soon as she left it there, she hurried down into the dungeons, wondering how she was going to get to Merlin when he was publicly proclaimed a sorcerer and she was merely a servant. The guards would never let her there. The Witchfinder, Kaunos, made sure that was impossible.

 

But she didn’t stop as she descended the stairs.

 

As she had expected, the guards immediately noticed her.

 

She cleared her throat. “I’d like to speak to the prisoner,” she told them. “Please,” she added just to be polite. But that wasn’t going to pay her a way inside.

 

“The king forbade it, girl,” one of them said as he crossed his arms across his chest.

 

Gwen pursed her lips. What was she going to do? She couldn’t even pretend she was bringing food to Merlin because she didn’t have anything with her and lying was a sure way to get herself into the cell as well.

 

“Let her through,” she heard a familiar voice from behind the guards. They both turned around and Prince Arthur emerged from the shadows.

 

“But, sire, this is against-”

 

“Let her through,” Arthur raised his voice again. Their eyes met and he nodded at her. She made a step forward, staring at the guards, but they only stepped aside. Gwen sighed with relief and rushed over to Arthur, who led her straight to Merlin.

 

“Thank you,” she smiled at the prince. He only nodded. “I’m glad you found him, but . . . I wish circumstances were different.”

 

“Me too,” Arthur agreed with her.

 

“Gwen?” she heard Merlin’s voice from the cell. She finally stepped closer to take a better look into the cell – and her eyes filled instantly with tears.

 

Merlin was sitting on the floor, his hands cuffed, and he looked so miserable that she wanted to cry even more. Of course he was miserable – he was awaiting execution. Her _friend_ was awaiting _execution_.

 

“You came?” he added.

 

Gwen swallowed as she nodded. “Yes, of course,” she tried to smile. “You’re my friend.”

 

“I’m sorry, Gwen, I should have-”

 

“No, it’s okay, Merlin,” she shook her head as she wiped away her tears. “It’s okay, I understand why you never told me. This place must be very hard to live in when you . . . When you’re – you.”

 

Merlin only nodded with a slight smile on his lips.

 

“We need to stop this,” Gwen then turned to Arthur. She noticed that his eyes were glistening more that usual in the gloom – even he was not immune to tears. Then she turned back to Merlin. “Can’t you use – well, magic?”

 

Merlin raised his hands to show her the handcuffs and shook his head. “They’re somehow blocking my magic, I can’t use it.”

 

Gwen nodded. “Kaunos seems to be well equipped.”

 

“He came prepared,” Arthur rubbed his chin and sighed. “What else does he have?”

 

“He brought a diary here to interrogate me,” Merlin told them. “For some reason, he used red ink, I don’t know why.”

 

“What did he write down? Did you see?” For some reason, Gwen noticed that Merlin’s cheeks turned slightly pink. He shook his head immediately after and looked down. “I don’t know, I couldn’t get close enough to see.”

 

“Well, what did he ask?” Arthur suggested.

 

“How did I get that staff-”

 

“What staff?” Arthur frowned at him.

 

“They found it in Merlin’s room,” Gwen explained. “I was there,” she added and looked down sadly.

 

Merlin closed his eyes tightly and nodded. “I was stupid and forgot about it. I don’t use it often, to be honest, I’ve only used it once or twice.”

 

“What staff is it?” Arthur repeated his question.

 

“It’s a magical staff from the Sidhe fairies,” Merlin sighed and sat down in front of the entrance to his cell, crossing his legs. “I took it from Sophia and her father Aulfric, before saving your life when they tried to kill you.” He looked at Arthur. “You probably don't remember – the girl tried to drown you as a sacrifice, and she almost did. You were under her spell until the next morning.”

 

Arthur unfolded his arms on his chest and frowned, stepping closer. “But you told me you had knocked me out with a stick!”

 

Merlin smirked at that. “I lied.”

 

“Unbelievable,” sighed Arthur, his expression incredulous.

 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin tried, but Arthur only raised his hand to shut him up. Gwen watched them in silence and waited until Arthur turned to them again. When he did, he took a deep breath and looked at Merlin, whose eyes were filled with regret. “We have to focus on how to save you now. My father can’t be reasoned with, so that’s a dead end.”

 

Gwen nodded sadly and brushed away more tears as she looked down at Merlin’s tied wrists. It looked quite painful. “And we don’t have much time.”

 

They all jumped slightly when the door to the dungeons opened violently and Gwen quickly stepped aside behind Arthur as soon as she saw who was coming inside. It was Uther with Kaunos in tow. Merlin stood up as fast as he could, hindered by the handcuffs that bound his wrists, and they all fell silent.

 

Gwen was terrified.

 

First of all, Uther’s eyes landed on her. “What is she doing here?”

 

“I let her through,” Arthur immediately defended her.

 

Uther only shook his head and then ignored them both, stepping closer to Merlin in the cell. He had hatred in his eyes as he looked at Merlin, and yet he _smiled._ “So it is you,” he said. As Gwen noticed, Kaunos was also smiling behind him. “Emrys.”

 

“What?” Arthur frowned as he unfolded his arms on his chest again and stepped closer to his father. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Silence!” Uther only raised his hand. Arthur closed his mouth shut and looked together with Gwen at Merlin. His eyes were wide and he looked more terrified than all of them combined. He shook his head slowly, muttering something like “ _no”._

 

“Today is a time to celebrate,” Uther smirked. “You, Emrys, are supposedly the most powerful sorcerer to have ever _been_.” Gwen’s eyes widened as she glanced at Merlin in disbelief. “And with you, magic will die.”

 

“He not only has magic,” Kaunos added, “he _is_ magic. I’m not sure what that means precisely, but it’s been written over and over in every book that I found on the subject.”

 

Both Gwen and Arthur stared at Uther, stunned, before turning back to Merlin again. Behind the bars, Merlin looked like he might just die at that very moment, right in front of them.

 

But his execution was sooner than he thought.

 

“You will die tonight,” Uther declared maliciously, that triumphant smirk still on his face. “And all magic in Camelot will die with you.”


	7. The Flames

Gaius was sitting in his small chambers, staring out the window. He couldn’t see the pyre from there, and he was very glad that he couldn’t because if he could, he might just break down. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even visit Merlin to say goodbye - Uther had forbidden that.

 

If only there was some kind of potion that could break the handcuffs’ powers. But he’d already searched through every book he had, and none of them talked about anything even slightly related to that. He felt hopeless. He didn’t know if he could save Merlin from this one, the amount of proof they had on him could not just be erased or forgotten.

 

He blamed himself. Of course he did. He should have checked Merlin’s room the very morning he left. He should have made sure that it was empty of any remaining magical objects, like the staff. He could have hidden it in his own chambers, which Kaunos hadn't been allowed to search through. They would never have found it.

 

It was all Gaius’ fault.

 

And now Merlin was going to die because of it. His destiny was never going to be fulfilled and Arthur was never going to be the same once Merlin was gone. Of course Gaius noticed that Arthur was missing as well. He was sure that the prince has gone after Merlin, searching for him. Who wouldn’t? He loved that boy, that was quite obvious. Gaius knew him since he was born, and he knew that it was love in Arthur’s eyes every time he looked at the young warlock.

 

Just like he knew that Merlin loved Arthur with all his heart. He’d told him himself, after all. And now Merlin was going to die and they could never be together. It was a tragic story, really.

 

Not only was it tragic – it went against the prophecy. Gaius had never believed that the future was set in stone. But right now, he desperately hoped that it was - that Merlin would not die so young because he was destined for far greater things.

 

His door opened abruptly and he almost jumped as he turned to look who it was. He was relieved to find Gwen and Arthur standing in his chambers.

 

“My lord. Gwen,” he greeted them. No smile reached his lips though.

 

“Gaius,” Arthur sighed and strode right over to him. “We need to save him. There has to be something, _please_.”

 

“Uther has moved the execution to tonight,” Gwen told him. Her voice was shaking.

 

Gaius shook his head and his eyes widened. “No,” he whispered as he stood up. “No.”

 

“Gaius, is there anything that we can do? Anything at all?” Arthur pleaded. Even though he didn’t want anyone to know, Gaius could hear that he was terrified. “Even magic,” he added.

 

Gaius only shook his head again. Merlin was going to die tonight and he couldn’t stop it. He'd failed him. He'd failed Hunith. But most of all, he had failed himself. “I haven’t found anything about the handcuffs in my books,” he told them as he pointed at his table. There were several books still lying open, useless. He didn’t even care if anyone saw those forbidden books anymore. “There is no spell or potion to break them.”

 

“Where did Kaunos get them, then?” Arthur asked, rubbing his eyes. “There has to be something . . . If we can’t use magic-”

 

“All handcuffs have a key,” Gwen suddenly exclaimed.

 

Both Arthur and Gaius turned to her with wide eyes as they realized the obvious - she was right.

 

“Gwen, you’re a genius!” Arthur beamed at her. “Gaius, do you know where he might be keeping the key?”

 

Gaius shrugged. “The only place I can think of are his chambers.”

 

“His chambers are right next to mine,” Arthur said, already hurrying back to the door with Gwen close behind. “We need to find it as soon as we can.”

 

“They’re already finishing the pyre,” Gwen turned to Gaius with tears in her eyes. “They said something about him being Emrys, and they want to- to _kill_ him tonight because of that.”

 

Gaius almost lost his balance as he heard that. “They know,” he whispered. Without any other explanation, he looked at them again and nodded. “We have to be careful,” he told them. “I’ll go with you.”

 

Together they all left the room, frantic and hurried.

 

Merlin could not die that evening. They wouldn’t allow that.

 

 

 

 

Arthur hurried as fast as he could with Gaius behind him and Gwen. They made it to the other side of the castle, through the courtyard, trying not to look at the almost finished pyre and gathering people. His father really was taking this seriously - he believed that with Merlin, all magic would die in the world. Arthur didn’t understand how he could think that, nor he understood why they called Merlin _Emrys_ , but he knew that he’d get his answers once they saved him.

 

And they needed to hurry up.

 

They made it to the corridor just next to Kaunos’ chambers, and all of them stopped. They listened closely, Arthur peeking behind the corner. There was no one in the corridor, so they let Gaius go closer to the door.

 

Arthur didn’t like the idea of using the old man as a distraction for Kaunos, but he and Gwen had a better chance at finding the key quickly in such a short time. And a short time it was, every minute mattered now.

 

They watched as Gaius reached the door and knocked three times.

 

The door opened and Kaunos walked outside. Arthur and Gwen immediately hid behind the corner, only listening.

 

“Gaius,” Kaunos said. “What a surprise - aren’t you supposed to be down in the courtyard already?”

 

“I was just on my way there,” Arthur heard Gaius reply. “But before I go, I just wanted to ask you . . . Why did you decide to perform the execution tonight rather than tomorrow morning?”

 

“Ah, that’s simple.” They heard Kaunos close the door. “Come, I’ll tell you on the way. You see, even though I’m sure you’ve known about the boy’s magic the entire time, _we_ didn’t know what Merlin truly was and what he’s capable of . . . “ His voice was quieter and quieter as he walked away with Gaius, taking the bait. It seemed that he loved explaining, especially if it was about how clever he considered himself to be.

 

Thankfully, they chose to use the corridor in the opposite direction from the one where Arthur and Gwen hid, and so as soon as the sound of Kaunos' voice died, they ran straight to the witchfinder's chambers.

 

Except that the door was locked.

 

“No,” Arthur cursed under his breath, closing his eyes. Their last hope . . .

 

“We can try to unlock it with something,” Gwen suggested, looking around. She peered at Arthur in scrutiny, probably trying to find out if he was carrying anything narrow enough to fit inside the keyhole.

 

“Or we can just kick the door,” Arthur told her. Before she could say anything though, he objected to his own idea. “That would make noise though.”

 

Gwen nodded.

 

“I can try this,” Arthur reached into his belt and pulled out a little dagger. It was pointy, so it might fit inside the keyhole, but it wasn’t long and narrow either.

 

“This needs to work,” Gwen whispered as Arthur wedged the dagger through the door, attempting to wiggle it around. “Please,” she added as a plea. The keyhole was too small for the dagger, but Arthur was persistent and he managed to actually reach the lock mechanism inside.

 

To their luck, the door clicked opened, even though the keyhole now looked destroyed from the outside. They both let out huge sighs of relief and disappeared inside Kaunos’ chambers.

 

Closing the door behind them, they started searching immediately. Gwen went to the bookshelves, trying to find out if any of those books was hollow, and Arthur started searching through Kaunos’ belongings, beginning with his table.

 

As time went on, always ticking faster and faster in his head, the execution fast approaching – he could only grow more frantic, his hands moving erratically and without any sense of coordination. He couldn’t help it. His hands were shaking. He was too close to losing Merlin forever and he didn’t know if he could save him if he and Gwen didn’t find the key.

 

He couldn’t believe that they only had so little time.

 

He took a deep breath and kept his tears and panic at bay, quickly emptying Kaunos’ drawers and throwing his papers around. He kept picking up the pace, desperately trying to hurry, until he suddenly realized that he was practically gasping for breath, his heart racing. He could never live in a world without his idiotic servant and that desperation was driving him forward.

 

“It has to be here somewhere,” Gwen said. She sounded like she was sobbing. And Arthur didn’t blame her. He was close to crying himself.

 

“We need to keep searching,” he replied with a very obviously trembling voice.

 

His cheeks were wet.

 

And he was sweating.

 

He moved to Kaunos’ bed after finding nothing on the table and he threw away his pillows, his blanket, getting on his knees and looking under the bed and even ripping the pillows apart, looking inside them.

 

Still nothing.

 

_Nothing._

 

Where could it be? Where could he be hiding that stupid key?

 

He moved closer to another table and to the window above it. It was open. Seeing that, it occurred to Arthur that they should probably close it, so as not to attract everyone's attention with all the noise they were making. They were practically destroying Kaunos' chambers - not that Arthur or Gwen cared.

 

Suddenly, Arthur froze.

 

Drifting through the open window was a familiar sound - his father’s voice. He could hear him and see him down on the balcony with Kaunos standing behind him. Gaius was nowhere to be found - he must have been already standing in the crowd below or he might have left the scene completely. Arthur wouldn’t blame him. He himself could never watch something like this happen to Merlin.

 

“It’s already started,” Gwen gasped as she heard Uther as well.

 

“Citizens of Camelot,” he began, just as Arthur returned to his frantic search, tearing through the second table again. Gwen returned to the books too, opening them faster than before. “We’ve gathered here today to witness the execution of a man that we all believed was innocent. He isn’t.”

 

Arthur couldn’t listen to this. Especially when he spotted Merlin in a _cage_ being taken to the centre of the courtyard, right to the pyre.

 

Panic gripped his heart.

 

And the key was still _nowhere_ to be found.

 

“He’s down there,” Arthur gasped, but it came out as a sob. He didn’t even bother wiping away his tears - he only blinked them away so that he could see what his hands were doing as he returned to his job. He took the entire table in his arms, moving it away from the window and looking all around it.

 

And there it was.

 

Under the table, from behind, there was a secret drawer. Arthur tried it and it was locked.

 

If the key wasn’t there, Arthur didn’t know what he’d do. He might as well just jump out of the window. His life would lose all meaning without Merlin. He wouldn't be able to survive hearing Merlin's screams anyway.

 

“This man is guilty of treason, of practicing magic and of causing harm to all of us and to our kingdom,” he heard his father say. Arthur barely registered what Uther was saying – they were just words, leading up to the terrible conclusion. “Supposedly, he is the most powerful sorcerer that we have ever seen. It is said that he is magic itself, and once he dies . . . Magic shall die with him.”

 

“Here,” Arthur shook with the locked drawer furiously so Gwen would come help him. “I found something,” he said. His voice was hoarse with emotion. “It’s locked.”

 

Gwen ran to him and looked at the drawer, trying to open it herself.

 

“Wait,” Arthur took the table in his arms again and with as much strength as he had left, he threw it against the floor. Gwen wasted no time in hurrying forward again, reaching down to check the drawer – and she shook her head. Her shoulders were trembling and she was openly sobbing now.

 

Arthur let out a frustrated growl and took up the table again, throwing it against the floor once more.

 

They both heard a crack and immediately darted forward to check if the lock was still intact – and saw that the wood was finally splintered.

 

Without another word exchanged between them, they pulled the drawer open.

 

And the key was there.

 

It was _there_ , the way to save Merlin was in his hands. Gwen looked up at him and nodded, rushing toward the window. She covered her mouth with her hand. “They’re tying him to the pyre!”

 

Without saying anything else, Arthur clenched the key in his fist and bolted out of the room.

 

To save Merlin.

 

To save their future.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ . . . And once he dies . . . Magic shall die with him.”

 

Those were the last words that Uther would ever say to him. The last words that Arthur ever told him were “ _Don’t worry, we’ll find Gaius and he’ll know what to do”._ It wasn’t an _“I love you”_ as Merlin had wished it would be. He didn't even know why Arthur's last words to him were sticking in his mind so clearly – it was as if in his last moments, he had been memorizing every detail.

 

And now he would die. But at least he’d die thinking of Arthur. There was nothing else he’d rather die thinking about.

 

Uther raised his hand in the air and Merlin’s heart almost stopped, his throat closing up already – the air seemed too thick to breathe anyway.

 

This was it.

 

He was going to die.

 

And he couldn’t be saved. There was no power left in him, nothing that would rid him of those painful handcuffs. He almost didn’t register the pain anymore. It was like his fear was so overwhelming, that he forgot about the pain. At this point, it hurt a lot - he’d noticed earlier that his wrists were a little too red, and that wasn’t just from the handcuffs. The scratches were understandable, but the way it felt . . . Merlin knew that it was magic.

 

He didn’t tell Arthur about that. He didn’t tell Gwen either. It would only give them another thing to worry about – and none of it mattered now, anyway.

 

Merlin didn’t sob. He didn’t want to look weak, not in front of Uther. But as Uther’s hand fell – coming to rest of the balcony railing as the king stood there, leaning forward to enjoy the view - Merlin didn’t even know if that mattered anymore.

 

Nothing did.

 

He was _lost_.

 

And his destiny would never be fulfilled . . . But maybe that didn’t matter anymore either. Maybe Arthur didn’t care about him that much, after all - he himself had said that he didn’t know if their relationship could ever be fixed.

 

Merlin would die without knowing if Arthur had ever loved him back. The look in his eyes, the smirk that he only ever wore around Merlin, before the witchfinder came . . . Merlin would never know if any of that meant something. He’d never know if something would have happened between them, had he acted on his feelings sooner.

 

He watched as the knight took the torch and set it on fire with the help of another knight.

 

It was amazing how many things he could think about in these last short moments. Before everything went dark and he never had to feel anything, ever again.

 

He was well aware of his heart beating furiously in his chest. He was almost scared he might have a heart attack, although it was rare at his age. He’d be grateful for that, though - it was much better than being burned alive.

 

The knight stepped closer to him, with the torch burning in his hands.

 

Merlin looked away and instead looked into the crowd. Those people . . . Their faces . . . They were so full of anger, confusion and lack of understanding. If only they knew what was happening, if they truly _knew_ who he was . . . But maybe it wouldn’t change anything. Some of those people grew up under Uther’s reign and agreed with him. They'd never known anything else - a kingdom with magic was foreign to them, terrifying. Merlin didn’t blame them. Not after everything that they learned from their leader, after every lie that Uther had fed them and he himself believed.

 

Only one face was full of sadness and pain.

 

It was Gaius.

 

Merlin gasped as he noticed him. His eyes were full of regret and he only shook his head as an apology. Merlin nodded. He didn’t blame him for any of this. But if Gaius blamed himself, he deserved to know that Merlin accepted that and forgave him.

 

There was no hope anymore.

 

The flames had caught on to the pyre. All that gold dry hay turned red and yellow, the fire eating it, slowly making its way to Merlin’s feet.

 

It was only the matter of minutes now.

 

More fire, more heat, more pain. Screaming and then _silence._

 

It was getting even harder to breathe. He could still see the people, the courtyard, the smile on his king’s face- _no_ , Uther was never his king. Arthur always was. Even if he didn’t know that.

 

Merlin was sweating heavily – his skin was sticky with perspiration, and yet felt dry and burned already. He gasped for air as he stared into the crowd. Gaius wasn’t there anymore. But someone was shouting. He could hear it. It sounded like his name. It was too hot for him to register anything, he couldn’t think about anything other than the flames getting closer.

 

But then he heard the knights. And the king, shouting. He heard someone running, their boots hitting the stone ground faster and faster, the sound getting closer to him, to _him._

 

And then he could see him. The gold hair and shining armour could not be mistaken for another knight. Not when he was shouting Merlin’s name, looking like an angel here to save him.

 

“Arth-” Merlin coughed and blinked a few times. It was getting hard to do anything. The fire was almost too close to him, but it hadn't reached him yet.

 

A sparkle of hope arose in Merlin’s heart. Could this not be the end? Could he be saved after all?

 

There were flames in Arthur’s way. But the prince didn’t seem to mind that at all because he continued running and no matter how much his father shouted at him, no matter that the knights tried to stop him, Arthur was faster and jumped into the fire with his hand over his mouth.

 

In the next second, his face was mere inches away from Merlin’s. Merlin could feel the sweat running down his face, over his eyelashes and behind his ears. His hair was sticking to his forehead. And even with Arthur’s blue eyes right there in front of him, he couldn’t smile.

 

What the hell was he doing? He was going to die there with him!

 

“You’ll-” he coughed, “die here-”

 

“For once, Merlin, shut up!” Arthur shouted as he ran behind him and grabbed his hands. Merlin wondered if there was even enough space for him between the stake and the fire.

 

He felt Arthur’s hands on the handcuffs, and then something clicked. He couldn’t believe it.

 

He was _free_.

 

Free from the handcuffs, but not from the pyre – he was still tied to the stake. Arthur was prepared for that too though. He took a knife and freed Merlin completely, running back in front of him, his eyes glassy and sweat around his lips and under his eyes.

 

Merlin didn’t hesitate. He threw his arms around Arthur, screwing his eyes shut. He couldn’t look at the flames anymore. He clutched him tightly with his arms around his waist and his head pressed tightly against Arthur’s chest and shoulder. And before he knew it, he felt his magic flare to life once again.

 

He didn’t know any incantation that would help them here. He didn’t even know why his first instinct wasn’t to just run away from the fire and then deal with the knights. But he let the feeling come. He let his magic prickle at the tips of his fingers as a strange, cold wind surrounded them.

 

And in the next moment, everything stopped. Uther’s shouting, the knights trying to put out the fire with water, the citizens gasping, the _flames._

 

The heat was gone and they weren’t in Camelot anymore.

 

They were standing on a quiet hilltop.

 

Just the two of them.

 

Still in a tight embrace.

 


	8. The New Plan

The flames had already closed around them, despite the knights' frantic efforts to put them out. Arthur closed his eyes, unable to move in the heat as he held Merlin close to himself, hoping for a miracle. He didn’t have to wait too long. As soon as Merlin wrapped his arms around him, a strange wind picked up, swirling quickly and enveloping them. Arthur gasped as he noticed that and then closed his eyes tightly, trusting that this was Merlin’s doing.

 

Because what else could have caused something like that if not strong magic? He didn’t even hear Merlin say any strange words. The boy was just pressing his head against his chest, breathing hard and gasping for air.

 

The wind disappeared mere seconds later and they tumbled down together – onto soft grass. When Arthur opened his eyes again, he found himself in the middle of a high hill, surrounded by other hills – far from Camelot.

 

Merlin was shaking violently in his arms and before Arthur knew it, the boy was sobbing like a baby. The sobs wracked his body and he couldn’t stop. He was lying on top of Arthur, holding him almost too tightly, his breaths coming so fast that Arthur feared for Merlin’s life even now, when they were away from the danger.

 

“Merlin?” he asked. His voice was hoarse and quiet.

 

“Thank- thank you,” Merlin whispered between his sobs.

 

“It’s okay,” Arthur said. Despite the fact that they both almost died seconds ago, and that Merlin had been lying to him for two years and was now crying in his arms . . . It was nice to hold him like this.

 

The intimacy of the moment was something that Arthur wanted to never end – because if it did, he feared that he would never experience it again. Their current situation was constantly on Arthur’s mind. He did tell Merlin he didn’t know if they could fix their relationship. And that was true. He didn’t know if they could ever be the same after everything that’s happened. But he also knew that despite everything, he was still stupidly in love with his manservant, so much that he could hardly stand it. But also so very mad at him for lying. It was like he couldn’t decide how to feel because he felt both. And aside from those two emotions, he also felt pity. Merlin didn’t deserve this, even when Arthur still didn’t really know everything that Merlin used his magic for, he definitely did _not_ deserve this.

 

He breathed with Merlin and closed his eyes. Then he noticed something was pushing up into his back and it was very uncomfortable, so he turned slightly so that they would lie on their sides and wrapped his arms tighter around Merlin’s small body. “It’s okay now, we’re safe,” he whispered back.

 

That didn’t change the fact that Merlin had almost died. They'd _both_ almost died.

 

Arthur couldn’t believe that they were _safe_ again. It happened so fast, but he could almost still feel the heat. The fire was nowhere near them now, only the setting sun and grass and hills wherever he looked.

 

As Arthur felt something cold slide down his cheek, he realized that he was crying as well. Not as loudly as Merlin, but he was crying. And no wonder, he'd just almost lost Merlin - his best friend and his love. He didn’t know what he’d have done if he had been late and Merlin had died. If he was watching him burn right now.

 

He knew he’d never be the same again.

 

Merlin moved slightly in his arms and Arthur looked down, brushing away his own tears with his one hand. Merlin pressed his forehead into Arthur’s chest and breathed in and out, trying to do so slowly.

 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled when he could finally talk again. “I’m sorry for everything,” he added. His voice was weak and almost inaudible. It broke Arthur’s heart to know what his father was capable of. What Kaunos was capable of with his father’s permission.

 

It was all so horrible.

 

“It’s okay,” Arthur repeated.

 

But Merlin shook his head. “No, it’s not,” he sniffled. Then he took a deep breath and coughed again. “I lied to you for- for so _long_ , Arthur,” he breathed in shakily. “I don’t deserve-”

 

“We’re not talking about that now,” Arthur decided. To his surprise, it shut Merlin up. Arthur sighed and brushed away the rest of his tears, settling his hand down in Merlin’s hair. “Come on, the sun is setting. We need to at least find out where you’ve taken us.”

 

Merlin breathed out shakily and nodded against his chest. Arthur couldn’t help but wish he had stayed in that position longer, but Merlin eventually moved away and distanced himself from Arthur. They sat up, their legs still tangled on the ground.

 

The warlock smoothed his tousled hair and brushed away his tears, using both his palms over his entire face. Then he took a deep breath and looked around, together with Arthur.

 

“My backpack!” Merlin pointed at Arthur, who turned back to look at him in confusion.

 

“What?”

 

“You kept my backpack,” Merlin sniffled and used his sleeves to brush away his tears. He pointed at Arthur’s back again. That was when it occurred to Arthur - the thing pushing up into his back was actually Merlin’s backpack that he forgot he was carrying around this entire time. Thank god his father hadn’t noticed that, he might have asked more questions.

 

“Right,” Arthur looked at his back and then back at Merlin. Without Merlin having to tell him, Arthur knew exactly what to do. He took the backpack off his shoulders and opened it to find a waterskin. It was full from when Merlin had filled it with water from the stream in the forest. Before Arthur had found out about his magic.

 

Arthur immediately handed the waterskin to Merlin, who brought it to his lips and started drinking like he’d been thirsty for years. He gulped almost half of the entire waterskin, before he finally took a breath and used some of the water to cool down his face. Then he handed it back to Arthur.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

 

Arthur only nodded. Then he took a sip as well, finally standing up and putting the backpack on again. Merlin was in no condition to carry it around, especially when they didn’t even know for how long they’d have to walk to reach the nearest village. Or what direction to go to find it.

 

“I don’t know where we are,” Merlin eventually said. He tried to stand up, but fell down again. Arthur immediately reached out his hand, which Merlin took with a slight hesitation. After Arthur pulled Merlin up, Merlin managed to stay standing and took a better look around. “We could be anywhere,” he shrugged. His voice was still so weak. It seemed like he couldn’t fully concentrate, but Arthur didn’t blame him for that. Merlin was probably still in shock.

 

Arthur also couldn’t help but think that Merlin would most probably have nightmares about tonight’s events for a very, _very_ long time.

 

“Well, how far can you travel like this?” Arthur asked.

 

Merlin only shrugged again and sniffled. Then he cleared his throat which sounded almost like a cough. “I’ve never done this before,” he finally replied.

 

That made Arthur pause and frown. Merlin hadn't even _said_ anything when he'd teleported them - there was no enchantment or spell, so how could he have known what he was doing? “How did you know what to do? I didn’t even hear you say . . . anything strange.”

 

Merlin didn’t look him in the eyes as he answered. “Sometimes, it just happens . . . My magic is like that.” He kept looking away from Arthur and at the horizon, but all they could see were hills and the setting sun.

 

Arthur’s heart filled with a strange feeling - was it awe? Pride? He wasn’t sure what it was, but knowing now that Merlin’s magic was so strong that he could quite literally transport them who knew how far away from Camelot without even really thinking about it . . . Or maybe he was just really bad at controlling it, in which case it was a wonder he'd managed to survive for two years in Camelot at all. But Arthur had a feeling that it was the former.

 

Thinking about that, he wasn’t surprised this kind of power made some people scared of Merlin. Arthur would never be scared though - after what had happened and how it felt to witness Merlin’s magic, he knew that Merlin would never hurt him or use his magic against him.

 

He still needed answers though. To a lot of questions. And he could begin with the most important one for now - where the hell were they?

“Aren’t those mountains?” Arthur noticed and pointed to his left. Merlin turned towards him and narrowed his eyes. Arthur glanced at him briefly and noticed that he was still drenched in sweat, but the cool breeze was helping with that.

 

“Maybe,” Merlin nodded.

 

“Let’s walk towards them so we’re sure,” Arthur suggested and started moving - thankfully, he knew all the mountains in Camelot. If they were even in the same kingdom . . .

 

Merlin followed him without a word.

 

They walked in silence, side by side, for nearly an hour. Merlin was clearly exhausted, but without a horse, they didn’t have much of a choice. They had to continue to figure out where they were and where to go next. Hopefully, they were heading farther away from Camelot, towards some nice village with a tavern and a place where they could stay the night.

 

Merlin coughed sometimes and each of those times, Arthur looked at him in concern. Merlin didn’t say anything though and kept moving, although Arthur could see how exhausted he was. They stopped a few times to rest and Arthur looked inside the backpack, to find one last apple and a bit of dried meat that he’d brought and Merlin had taken. He gave Merlin whatever he wanted and settled for the dried meat, but not all of it. They had to last longer and Merlin hadn’t eaten anything in almost a day - he needed it more.

 

The sun was already almost gone. It was getting dark, but they were finally closer to the mountains and Arthur could identify them.

 

He nodded once he knew for sure where they were. “I know where we are,” he told Merlin as he stopped. Merlin stopped walking as well, but didn’t look up. He was trembling again and it made Arthur regret that he had hidden their blankets into the saddle back which stayed in Camelot. He could have used them to wrap Merlin in something. And he was already wearing all his spare tunics at once, half of which had been torn apart by Arthur as he was patching up Merlin’s shoulder.

 

He looked quiet and sad, almost withdrawn. Guilty.

 

Arthur didn’t like that look. But he had to ignore it for now. It wasn’t only getting darker but colder as well and they needed to find some place to stay. Somewhere safer than here in the open air.

 

He pointed at the mountains - only their tips were now illuminated by the sun's last rays. “Mountains of Andor,” he said. “According to the sun, we’re heading South, which means that we have to follow the sun to reach the nearest village. Earlen. We might reach it in under two hours.”

 

“Then let’s go.” That was all Merlin said.

 

They started walking again and Arthur really hoped that he was right and that they would make it to the village as soon as possible. They both needed sleep – and Merlin seemed to need it more than ever.

 

 

 

 

 

It took them just as long as Arthur had said to reach the village. By the time they arrived, it had already gotten dark and only the windows of some of the houses were providing light for them. The moon was unfortunately covered by dark clouds.

 

Merlin was shivering. He knew he was. He tried to hide it, but he knew that Arthur had noticed a long time ago. They couldn’t do anything but keep moving though. Merlin couldn’t wait until they found some place to sleep so he could forget about everything that’s happened and put all of that behind him, in the past.

 

He had no intention of thinking about the execution. He had almost lost his life! If it hadn’t been for Arthur, he would be dead now. But Arthur still cared about him, he'd proven that by saving him and still talking to him even though he knew what Merlin was capable of.

 

It made Merlin ashamed. Because Arthur still didn’t know everything that he’s done. And once they had the long-anticipated talk, Merlin was sure Arthur would stop talking to him completely. He would return to Camelot and claim that Merlin had enchanted him to free him of the fire.

 

What else could the prince do after hearing that Merlin was the reason Morgana disappeared? Or the one who set the great dragon free, enabling him to attack Camelot and kill innocent people?

 

“We’re here,” Arthur nudged his arm. Merlin knew he was slow, but he almost didn’t have any strength left. He needed rest and safety. “I’ve been here only once with my father, when I was just a little boy,” Arthur continued, “and if I remember correctly, there should be a tavern with rooms somewhere over there.” He pointed to the right half of the village and smiled reassuringly at Merlin.

 

But smile was something that Merlin couldn’t do right now. He wouldn’t smile for a long time. He was alive, yes, but he felt as if everything was still falling apart, no matter how much Arthur tried to pretend he was fine at the moment - with who Merlin was and with all the lies and half-truths.

 

So Merlin only nodded and waited until Arthur started walking again. Then he followed him without another word. He wasn’t in a mood to talk either and he was sure Arthur must have already noticed that.

 

Arthur only talked when they entered the tavern. There was a nice young lady, cleaning the tables and Arthur asked her for one room for the night - he didn’t have money for more than that.

 

She took the money and led them to one of the empty rooms.

 

Once the door closed behind them and warmth enveloped them, Merlin sighed and sat down on the single bed. He’d either have to sleep on the floor or they’d have to share, it seemed - there was no way Arthur was letting Merlin sleep in the bed and choosing the floor for himself instead.

 

Merlin turned towards the warmth and opened his eyes. There, in the hearth, was – a _fire_.

 

Without thought, he reacted to the sight – jumping irrationally, he turned to face away from the flames, closing his eyes.

 

“Are you okay?” Arthur asked, putting down the backpack. He sounded concerned, but that couldn’t have been true - he’d already saved Merlin, now they were at the point in their relationship where they didn’t even know if they could fix the relationship in the first place.

 

“Fine,” Merlin spoke. He was surprised to find his voice so weak. Yet he still couldn’t look into the flames.

 

Arthur looked at the fire and then back to Merlin and pursed his lips, nodding. Then he sat on the bed next to Merlin, blocking his view of the fireplace with his broad shoulders. Merlin was grateful for that. He didn’t even know if he could make fire with magic or think about _fire_ for the rest of his life.

 

“Merlin, you’re shaking,” he heard Arthur say after a moment. Was he shaking? He didn’t feel cold anymore. Was it because of the fire? He looked at his hands that were very visibly trembling, but he couldn’t control it. He couldn’t- he couldn’t- “Look at me,” he heard Arthur say. His voice sounded so warm.

 

Merlin slowly raised his head and then finally, their eyes met. Merlin felt like he could get lost in that blue, but he didn’t dare because of what had happened. So he dropped his gaze and looked at Arthur’s chest instead.

 

“I’m really sorry, about everything that’s happened,” Arthur told him. His voice was calm and gentle. As if Merlin was about to break at any moment. And maybe he was. Clearly, he wasn’t _fine_ at all.

 

“I’m sorry, too,” Merlin nodded. “About everything I did and . . . Everything I haven’t told you yet and about everything that you know so far.”

 

“We’ll talk about that,” Arthur nodded, “but now we need some rest.” Arthur touched his forearm lightly, but Merlin moved his hand away. Then it happened. The hem of Merlin’s sleeve rode up and Arthur had a clear view of the wounds caused by the handcuffs. “Merlin,” he frowned at him. He reached out his hand again and took Merlin’s fingers carefully - Merlin didn’t move away this time. “Is it from the handcuffs?” Merlin nodded slightly. Arthur was silent for a while – when he spoke again, he sounded forcibly calm. “Let me clean it.”

 

Merlin wasn’t sure if he should let Arthur do that. He’d already treated his wound from the bandits and then he had saved him from an execution, going against his own father. Wasn’t that already enough?

 

He looked up into Arthur’s eyes again, but according to that look on Arthur’s face, there was no room for arguing. And so Merlin nodded. “Thank you,” he added quietly.

 

They stood up and Arthur led Merlin to the table, where they sat down opposite each other. There was a little basin and a tankard filled with water next to it. Merlin rolled up his sleeves and aligned his wrists above the basin, letting Arthur do the rest.

 

Arthur took the tankard and gently poured the water over Merlin's wrists, using his fingers to get rid of the dried blood from the scratches. Of course, he had washed his hands before that to not cause any infection. Kaunos certainly didn’t waste any money on the handcuffs’ smooth surface - all he cared about were the strange symbols that had locked away Merlin's magic.

 

Merlin shuddered as he felt Arthur’s careful fingers brush his skin. He didn’t know if he should keep staring at his hands, or at Arthur or at the floor - he settled on his hands. He watched as Arthur washed his wrists clean, muttering a quiet apology when Merlin winced slightly.

 

But then he noticed exactly what Merlin feared he’d notice. “These don’t look like mere scratches at all,” Arthur frowned, leaning down to study Merlin's wrists. He'd surely noticed the strange colour of the skin around Merlin's wrists – it wasn't exactly bruised. Merlin knew exactly what it was – a mark that had remained on his wrists after the usage of the handcuffs on as powerful a creature of magic as he was.

 

“What did they do to you?” Arthur asked, looking at Merlin.

 

Merlin let their eyes meet for a second – a moment later, he dropped his gaze again, looking back down at the table. “It was just the handcuffs,” he shrugged. But then he decided that enough was enough – too many lies already existed between him and Arthur. He wouldn’t lie to Arthur again; he desperately needed to win his trust back - he’d never forgive himself if he ruined the possibility of a future between them. So he sighed and swallowed. “They were designed for sorcerers,” Merlin added slowly, “not for . . . not for _me._ ”

 

Arthur’s frown even deepened. “What do you mean?”

 

“Kaunos and your father both said that I not only have magic, but I _am_ magic,” Merlin sighed. He had hoped they could talk about this sometime else, but apparently not. “They were right.”

 

“What do you mean? How- how is that even possible?”

 

“I was born with my magic,” Merlin looked up at him. Their fingers were still touching in the cool water. “And for most of my childhood, I had no way of controlling it. It did what it wanted to whenever I became too excited or too sad. I could move things even before I could talk . . . That’s why my mother sent me to Camelot,” said Merlin, nodding decisively. “So I could learn to control it with Gaius’ help.”

 

“But Camelot kills sorcerers on sight,” Arthur shook his head. “You could have died, so many times-”

 

“I wanted to stay,” Merlin just shrugged. “I met you and realized that I needed to stay and protect you.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes at that.

 

“It’s true, you have no idea how many times I’ve saved your life.”

 

“Alright, let’s say that’s true,” Arthur said as he took Merlin’s wrists again and gently examined the wounds. “It still doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me again and pretended like these handcuffs weren’t hurting you.”

 

Merlin pursed his lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to worry.”

 

Arthur didn’t say anything for a moment. He must have noticed how tired Merlin looked – after a moment's reluctance, he removed Merlin's hands from the water basin and wrapped them in a clean cloth that he'd found underneath.

 

“Just don’t lie to me again,” he sighed. Then he paused and looked at Merlin, still holding his hands. “Promise?”

 

Merlin nodded without hesitation. “Promise.”

 

“Alright,” Arthur nodded. He looked at Merlin again and then his eyes settled on his shoulder. “I should change your bandage on your shoulder too.” He stood up and rounded the little table to get closer to Merlin and help him take off his neckerchief and jacket, careful not to loosen the bandages on his wrists that he had made for him. Arthur then also helped Merlin out of his tunics, and Merlin didn’t argue. He didn’t want to argue about anything anymore - he was too tired.

 

He felt Arthur’s eyes on his chest and his scars again, and he hid his blush and embarrassment by looking down on the floor.

 

“Why didn’t you use your magic to heal your arm?” Arthur voiced the question that had been on his mind probably ever since he'd woken up to the sight of Merlin's golden eyes.

 

Merlin shrugged carefully. “Your wound was more serious - I wanted to try to heal it first and make sure it wasn’t infected.”

 

Arthur was silent for a while as he removed the old bandage from Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin winced slightly, but Arthur was really trying to be gentle. It was almost uncharacteristic of him.

 

“Can you heal yourself now?”

 

Merlin just shook his head. “Healing spells are hard,” he answered quietly. “I doubt it would work right now. Besides, it’s not that serious.”

 

Arthur nodded and turned around to wash his hands again, picking up a tankard filled with clean water. Then he poured a little bit on Merlin’s wound - it needed to be cleaned again, apparently - and he set the tankard down again.

 

“You did move us half across the kingdom, Merlin. You’re powerful,” he commented.

 

Merlin pursed his lips slightly but didn’t say anything. Neither did Arthur. He dried Merlin’s shoulder wound – it was really just a big scratch, after all - and wrapped it in another clean cloth. Then he helped Merlin into another tunic - only the one he wore on top. The other one was drenched in sweat; at least the top one was a little cleaner. He couldn’t stay bare during the night because it was still cold.

 

When the process was complete, Arthur stepped away from him and washed his hands again. Merlin remained sitting, staring between the bed and the empty floor next to it. Which will it be tonight? Bed? Or the floor?

 

“We should really get some rest – I'm sure you really need it.” Arthur said, agreeing with what Merlin had just been thinking. He looked at the fire and then at Merlin and the bed. Then he sighed again. “If you want to take the bed, I’ll let you. You almost died.”

 

 _We almost died,_ Merlin wanted to correct him, but he was too tired for that.

 

Normally, Merlin would probably argue with Arthur and say that he could sleep on the floor. Today, though, he was so tired that he couldn’t think about anything other than the soft blanket and pillow on the bed in front of him. That, and also - he didn’t want to sleep on the floor and have to get close to the fireplace. Arthur must have known that, which was why he offered him the bed.

 

Too bad they didn’t have enough money for a better room.

 

“I’ll take the bed,” Merlin stated as he slowly stood up and made his way towards it. He sat down on the bed and turned to look at the prince again. Arthur had been watching him steadily – but as their eyes met he turned away, starting to work on removing all of his armour. As Merlin watched him, the guilty feeling in his gut intensified; here he was, unable to help Arthur take off all of the metal plates and chainmail because he was suddenly afraid of _fire_. He felt even more guilty when he looked at the fresh bandages on his wrists and his shoulder. Arthur has done so much for him and continued to do so, even though Merlin didn’t deserve it.

 

But soon . . . Arthur would know that too.

 

Merlin sighed quietly and looked away from Arthur, covering himself with the thick blanket up to his ears. He wanted to hide from the cruel world and be only in the presence of Arthur. He’d wanted to do that many times before, but this time that feeling was much stronger. At the same time, he did understand – Arthur wouldn't even share the bed with him.

 

Their relationship was broken; Merlin was sure of it. And it was all his fault.

 

So he closed his eyes and tried to forget about everything. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to not dream at all because if he had a dream, it would surely be a nightmare about the heat and fire and _panic_.

 

He heard Arthur open the door and leave their room and then return later with an extra blanket and a pillow. After that, Merlin closed his eyes and finally succumbed to the darkness and well-deserved oblivion.

 

 

 

 

Arthur hadn’t thought about how traumatic of an experience the execution must have been for Merlin until he was woken in the middle of the night to Merlin’s heavy breathing, mumbling and occasional scream.

 

He was lying on the ground next to the fireplace. He didn’t dream of anything that night, but he feared that the sight of Merlin in the next moment might give him nightmares of his own. At first when he regained consciousness, he didn’t realize what was happening - but as soon as he heard Merlin’s first troubled moan, Arthur’s eyes snapped open and he stood up, running to the bed.

 

Merlin was tossing and turning, the blanket forgotten on the floor. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and his eyes were closed, but constantly moving under his eyelids.

 

“No,” Merlin said in his sleep. “Uhm no, _no-_ ” He was still trapped in his dream - in the nightmare.

 

Arthur reached out his hand and shook Merlin’s uninjured shoulder. It didn’t help; Merlin still tossed and turned and frowned and kept mumbling something about how much it _hurt_. Arthur couldn’t watch that any longer. He got up on the bed next to Merlin and grabbed Merlin’s head, shaking him awake.

 

Merlin’s eyes opened wide and he quickly sat up, grabbing Arthur’s hands in the process, looking as if he was trying to defend himself. Then his eyes landed on Arthur and he frowned. Confusion settled on his face for a fraction of a second, but then it was gone and he let out a breath, letting go of Arthur’s hands and grabbing his head.

 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he looked down at the bed between them.

 

“It’s okay, it was only a nightmare,” Arthur said, gently touching his shoulder again. “You’re safe now,” he added, just to let Merlin know that it was true. There was no danger anymore and no way for Kaunos to find them. And Arthur would keep running away with Merlin if he had to, which was where he feared this entire situation was leading to.

 

Merlin only nodded, but Arthur could see that he was holding back tears. Then he nodded again and swallowed, but he did not use Arthur’s offer of comfort. Instead he moved and let Arthur’s hand loosely fall off his shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You should go back to sleep, Arthur.”

 

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, anything, but then he closed it again. What was there to say? Merlin had betrayed him and left him, but then he almost died and now he was living with the consequences, having nightmares about everything that Uther had done to him. Arthur didn’t feel anger towards Merlin in that moment, only sympathy. And even though he wanted to help Merlin, obviously, Merlin didn’t want him to. Maybe he felt more guilty than Arthur had thought.

 

“Okay,” Arthur nodded as he slowly, hesitantly, left the bed again. As he stood there, Merlin kept sitting and holding his head, shaking slightly. “Just make sure you get some sleep too, surely the nightmare won’t come again,” he told him. Merlin only nodded slowly.

 

A long moment later, Merlin lowered his hands from his head, taking a deep breath – and then, he lay down on the bed again. Arthur pursed his lips and picked up the blanket, throwing it gently over Merlin to keep him warm.

 

He knew well that Merlin didn’t want to be close to the fireplace thanks to his reaction to it before. And it was understandable. Arthur only hoped that he’d get over it with time and that . . . That their entire relationship could be fixed. He’d told Merlin he didn’t know if it could be, but he wished for nothing more than to go back to how things were before.

 

And he knew that Merlin wanted that, too. Arthur touched his arm - exactly where his injury had been before Merlin healed it. He knew that Merlin cared about him - perhaps not in the way that Arthur wanted him to, but he did. They used to be friends. And hopefully, they could be friends again. But first, they both had to get over whatever it was that split them apart and almost made them strangers.

 

After that, and after they’d somehow get rid of Kaunos and clean Merlin’s name . . . Arthur hoped for more than merely a friendship.

 

 

 

Uther could not believe what had happened, what he had seen with his own two and _healthy_ eyes. It must have been the work of the sorcerer, somehow he must have broken free of the handcuffs’ hold or . . . Or he had enchanted Arthur before they’d even caught and imprisoned him. Yes, that was the only possible explanation. His son would never have helped that evil _sorcerer_ who had been hiding in their midst, betraying their trust for over two years.

  


The king closed his eyes briefly as he paced the throne room and then he opened them again. He hadn’t come up with anything else than that. And he’d already called for Sir Leon so he could send out a searching party to look for his son and the sorcerer. He knew it would be far more dangerous this time, he had been enchanted by a very powerful sorcerer, but there had to be a way to break that evil spell. To undo Emrys’ doing.

  


The door to the throne room opened and Uther sighed. Finally. He turned to immediately give orders to Sir Leon, but instead he came face to face with his own witchfinder.

  


“Kaunos,” he gritted out through his teeth. He knew he shouldn’t blame him, but he couldn’t help but only feel anger right now. “Where is Sir Leon?”

  


“I’m sure he’ll be here in a moment, my lord,” Kaunos bowed to him. “But I come here with a proposal.”

  


Uther frowned at him. “What are you suggesting?”

  


“An idea,” Kaunos nodded and moved a few steps closer to his king. Then his expression changed and he seemed _determined._ “My lord, I know more about Emrys than anyone else, I’ve been studying the books that have been written about him and I believe I have the things needed to stop him.”

  


Uther stopped pacing for a moment and nodded. “Then leave with Sir Leon and his group of knights.”

  


“My lord,” Kaunos stepped closer again. “I think it would be better if I went alone,” Uther frowned at that, but let him continue. “None of the knights have the knowledge like I do. They would only slow me down. All I need is a horse and your permission.” He bowed again.

  


“Do you suggest I stop looking for my son?”

  


“No, of course not,” Kaunos hurriedly assured him. “Wherever Emrys is, I’m certain that the prince is there with him. I can find them both, faster than your knights. I’ve been preparing to hunt Emrys down for years, and now that I finally know who he is, it should be even easier.”

  


Uther narrowed his eyes but nodded slightly to show that he was thinking about the idea. Then he opened his mouth and after a short moment, he nodded again and said, “Do you also have what is needed to free my son of the enchantment that’s befallen him?”

  


Kaunos frowned slightly but immediately nodded to hide that. “Of course,” he said, “I’ll bring the prince safely home and kill that sorcerer myself.”

  


Uther nodded again and finally sat down on his throne. “Very well then,” he told Kaunos. “I’ll let you go after them first . . . But my knights will follow, you’ll only get a short head start.”

  


“Thank you, my lord,” Kaunos bowed and turned around.

  


Uther stopped him though, “Kaunos!”

  


The witchfinder turned back to his king and looked up at him.

  


“Bring- . . . Bring my son home.”

  


“I will,” Kaunos nodded one last time, before he once more turned around and left the throne room.

  


Uther closed his eyes again and was glad that he’d sent his guards away from the room. He needed a bit of silence so that he could think.

  


Arthur was gone together with a dangerous sorcerer and his daughter was gone together with a powerful sorceress as well. Uther had no idea where his life had gone wrong like that. All he’s ever wanted was to rule this kingdom and her people and free them of the evil of magic.

  


But magic has always and will always find its way back, striking where it hurt the most.

  


His heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arthur didn’t usually wake up early, he’s always needed Merlin for that. Which was why he woke up later than usual today. When he finally rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, yawned and sat up, he noticed that Merlin was still in the bed, his back slowly moving up and down.

  


At least he was still asleep. Arthur never wanted to see Merlin so restless in the night again, his dreams poisoned by nightmares. He’d feared Merlin wouldn’t fall asleep again, but now that he was sure Merlin had, Arthur tried to be as silent as possible.

  


He stood up and washed his face in clean water and then left their room, leaving Merlin behind alone. He went down to the tavern, ordered a breakfast and once he got his food, he went back up the stairs, quietly opening the door to their room. He wanted to keep the remnants of their dried meat for later, should they need it. It was the only food they had left after all.

  


Arthur sighed quietly and closed the door again. Yes, sleeping on the floor was rather uncomfortable, but it was all worth it when he saw Merlin’s peaceful expression. He hasn’t seen that in the last few days. He didn’t see that often at all, but ever since Kaunos arrived and everything went wrong, it was almost impossible to see Merlin like this.

  


He placed the breakfast on the table, next to the basin with water. He managed to get two pieces of bread, two apples, two goblets for the water that they already had in their room and some ham. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to last them until lunch at least. Then Arthur would need to buy more food - supplies for later. They had to leave the tavern after all, Arthur didn’t have enough money for more than one night.

  


Merlin stirred slightly in his sleep and Arthur straightened himself up. He turned away towards the table, so it didn’t seem like he was just standing there and staring at Merlin as he slept. But there was no chair, so he just stood there with his back to Merlin.

  


Then he heard Merlin finally move in the bed and yawn.

  


“Rise and shine, right?” Arthur smiled slightly as he glanced at Merlin. He took a bite of his piece of bread and chewed it in his mouth. Merlin didn’t answer him.

  


It was true that their relationship was very fragile right now, but Arthur couldn’t ignore how he felt as he ran towards the burning pyre. The desperation and overwhelming fear of losing the one person he’s come to care about the most . . . The mere thought was terrifying. And the memory of it almost happening was still so fresh. It happened just the day before, a few hours ago.

  


He finally turned to Merlin and gave him another smile. But instead of smiling back, Arthur noticed that Merlin’s eyes flashed gold briefly. Arthur frowned and took a step back without even thinking about it, but the gold was gone in a second. Merlin then closed his eyes.

  


When Arthur looked around to see what Merlin just did, he saw that the fire in the fireplace was now gone.

  


_Oh._

  


He knew why Merlin did that. Especially after that nightmare. It still made him feel uneasy to see him do magic though. He couldn’t ignore that either.

  


“I brought you breakfast,” Arthur cleared his throat as he handed Merlin his food.

  


“Thanks,” Merlin nodded, still in bed. He seemed a bit distant. And Arthur tried to be understanding, but he also burned with desire for all the answers that Merlin had for his questions. But he told himself to wait until Merlin was better. His health was more important, both physical and mental.

  


They ate their breakfast in silence. Arthur sat down on a bench near the wall and Merlin stayed in bed, finishing his apple, bread and ham faster than Arthur had anticipated. When Arthur looked at his friend and saw that he looked better, he couldn’t help but long even more for all the answers.

  


Why did Kaunos call him Emrys?

  


What did it mean that he was the most powerful sorcerer?

  


How did he even become that in the first place?

  


It was almost like Merlin was this completely different person. A familiar stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

  


Arthur swallowed and looked at Merlin, narrowing his eyes. “We’ll need to leave today,” he said instead of asking any of those questions. “I don’t have much money left and unfortunately, it’s not enough to pay for another night here. We’ll have to-”

  


“We can’t go to Ealdor,” Merlin interrupted him, as if knowing Arthur would suggest exactly that. “My mother’s there, I can’t risk losing her too.”

  


Arthur frowned at that. It seemed almost like Merlin thought that he’d lost Arthur. Which Arthur himself wasn’t entirely sure was true, but for the sake of their future, he hoped that Merlin talked about his life in Camelot.

  


Which was why he nodded. “We’ll have to find a different village then, far away from here where no one will know us.”

  


Merlin was already shaking his head. What now? “I can’t let you do that,” he said.

  


“What do you mean? I’m the prince here, Merlin.”

  


“Exactly,” Merlin looked him in the eyes and frowned slightly. Arthur didn’t understand why there were tears in his eyes. “You’re the future king, Arthur, you _have to_ return to Camelot. I can’t just keep dragging you with me wherever I go.”

  


“I won’t return to Camelot until-” Arthur paused and then decided to say it anyways to at least show Merlin his support, “until you’re safe there.”

  


Merlin didn’t look away from his eyes, but Arthur could clearly see pain in them and regret. “Then you’ll live in exile.”

  


“So be it,” Arthur argued. “At least I won’t be alone.”

  


As soon as he said that, Merlin finally looked down with a sheepish blush on his cheeks. There was no smile though, he only closed his eyes briefly.

  


“Don’t blame yourself for this,” Arthur added. He could see that well in Merlin’s entire body language, “I _will_ become the king one day. And it’s not your fault that my father asked Kaunos to come. You couldn’t have stopped it.”

  


“I should have looked under the bed though,” Merlin told him with a sigh. With his head still down, he wiped his cheeks with his sleeve and swallowed. “That’s where Kaunos found the staff. If he hadn’t found that, our lives would still be normal. We wouldn’t have to run and almost die.” He winced slightly as he said that.

  


“People make mistakes, Merlin,” Arthur told him. “And so do you, I’ve always been telling you this,” he tried to joke slightly, but it provoked no reaction in Merlin whatsoever.

  


Perhaps Merlin was more broken after the fire than Arthur had thought.

  


“I just wish none of this happened,” Merlin mumbled. He brought his legs closer to his body and rested his chin on his knees, looking down at the bed. “I wish I could somehow take back everything that’s happened. I wish Kaunos had never arrived in Camelot.”

  


Arthur nodded at that. “If only we could turn back time.”

  


In that moment, Merlin’s head snapped up and he looked at Arthur with his eyes wide. “What if we could?” he asked, for the first time in a long time, his eyes filled with new-found hope.

  


“What do you mean?”

  


“What if there’s a spell that would allow us to take everything back. All of it,” he looked at Arthur as he explained. “Kaunos would never find out I have magic, I’d never have to leave Camelot and then be imprisoned, and you’d never-”

  


Arthur understood now.

  


“And I’d never find out about your magic?” he asked, still slightly hoping that Merlin didn’t want to say that. He didn’t want to endlessly live in a circle of lies.

  


Merlin pursed his lips. “I’d tell you,” he looked at Arthur.

  


“Would you? You hadn’t told me until I found out on my own. Even after I’d repeatedly asked, you refused to tell me, so what makes you think you’d tell me now?” Arthur didn’t want to get angry, but that anger and betrayal was still deep inside him and he could feel those two feelings rising to the surface.

  


If Merlin ever looked apologetic, it was nothing compared to this. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he apologised again. “I promise I’ll tell you everything you want to know. From now on.”

  


“Alright,” Arthur nodded, accepting that. He hoped Merlin didn’t lie now, but if he ever felt uncomfortable answering, Arthur wouldn’t force that on him. But he felt like this was the perfect time for his questions. Or at least some of them. “Why are you called Emrys?”

  


Merlin just shrugged. “All I know is that that’s what the druids call me. There’s a prophecy connected to it, saying that I’m the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. Which is why it’s such a bad thing that Kaunos knows this about me.”

  


Arthur nodded, and then he frowned. It sounded ridiculous to him. Merlin? The most powerful sorcerer to ever live? _Merlin?_ Was that a joke? But he’s already heard Kaunos and his father say something similar. Therefore, Arthur tried his best to accept it as the truth. Merlin seemed like he believed the druids believed it was truly him, so Arthur just went with it and asked another question. “And what did Kaunos mean when he said that you _were_ magic itself?” That was another puzzle that Arthur had no hope of solving.

  


“That’s what I’ve been told,” Merlin answered, seemingly truthfully. “Magic is a fabric of this world and I was born of that magic. What that means, I still don’t know.”

  


“But you’re powerful.”

  


Merlin nodded.

  


“What can you do?” he asked curiously. He’d never thought about magic like that - like a power that he wanted to know more about, know its limits. It’s always been a dangerous thing to talk about, especially in Camelot. But knowing that Merlin had these abilities . . . It made him want to know what Merlin was even capable of.

  


“I’m not experienced enough yet,” Merlin said. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to learn some magic, memorize spells, but they don’t always work out and I need training.” Without letting Arthur ask another question, Merlin changed the subject again. But Arthur didn’t mind - for now. With every word he seemed more like the old Merlin. “But I’ve never heard of a time travelling spell. Or of a spell that could change the reality or change the past . . . “

  


“So that’s our plan then. To find out,” Arthur clapped his hands as he stood up.

  


Merlin nodded. “It’s the only option,” he looked up at Arthur again, with a frown on his face. “I can’t just leave Camelot with you like this, you need to become a king. You’re destined to be the greatest king Camelot has ever seen.” He smiled up at him, even though Arthur frowned.

  


“Is that a part of that prophecy?” he joked, but Merlin didn’t smile.

  


Instead, he nodded.

  


“What?”

  


“Believe me, I was surprised at first too, but this seems to be the truth,” he said as he let go of his legs and sat on the edge of the bed. “And since there’s only one person I know that could have the answer to our problem-”

  


“Wait, I’m in a prophecy?” Arthur just couldn’t let go of that idea. “What does it say about me?”

  


But Merlin just closed his eyes. “Exactly what I told you, that you’ll become a great king,” he said. Then he added, “And that with my help, you’ll unite the lands of Albion and bring peace and magic back.”

  


Arthur kept staring at Merlin, too many thoughts swirling through his head. “And you never thought you’d tell me? Or even mention it?”

  


“Don’t start again,” Merlin stood up and walked past Arthur for his belongings that he’d found in the corner of the room. “Now, we’ll need to find a meadow,” Merlin paused and looked at Arthur worriedly, “and you’ll find out something about me that you won’t like.”

  


Arthur ignored him. “I want to know more about the prophecy!”

  


Merlin just took Arthur’s padded jacket and threw it at him.

  


Then he left the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They didn’t have horses. In fact, they barely had anything - only what Arthur was carrying as he ran into the fire to save Merlin. Which was only a handful of coins (thankfully enough for one night in the tavern and some supplies to last them a couple of days), Merlin’s backpack which contained his clothes, spell book and the little wooden dragon, and his sword. And that was about it.

  


Merlin took his backpack and walked out of their room first. He hurried down the stairs and didn’t stop until he was on the edge of the village, where the last houses and the forest met. There, he waited for Arthur.

  


He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He didn’t want anyone to see him. Who knew what Uther had told his people after the unsuccessful execution? What if someone noticed him now and later would tell the knights? Words travel fast, but if anyone here memorizes his face that’s even more dangerous. That was why Merlin had to leave that place as soon as he could.

  


But that wouldn’t be easy. Especially with no horse.

  


“Merlin!” he finally heard his prince from the distance. It took him almost five minutes to leave the tavern, and Merlin constantly felt like they needed to hurry now that he actually had a plan. He adjusted the strap of his backpack on his uninjured shoulder and waited until Arthur reached him.

  


“Don’t call my name like that,” he whispered as he grabbed his hand and dragged him into the forest, farther away from the village. Then he let go of his hand almost immediately. “People might hear you.”

  


Arthur sighed. “Merlin, you can’t just run away in the middle of the conversation like that.”

  


“I don’t see a reason why I can’t,” Merlin shrugged as he started walking away. He had a feeling that this trip would be a very long one, with a lot of talking, explaining and apologizing.

  


He wasn’t looking forward to that.

  


“Because I’m the prince,” Arthur replied. Of course he’d say that.

  


“Unless we find the person I want to talk to, find the spell, successfully travel back in time and change everything that went wrong, then you won’t return to Camelot and continue your life as a prince. You’re too stubborn to leave,” he told him. Arthur was too stubborn to leave _him_.

  


And Merlin knew that Arthur still cared about him. Because why else would he have saved his life? Why would he have run into the fire for him like that? Arthur did act more gentle around him ever since that happened, but still . . . Whenever Merlin looked at him, whenever he talked to him, there was this . . . invisible barrier in between them. They lived in two separate worlds now, and Arthur was trying to understand his. The only thing Merlin didn’t know was whether or not Arthur would be able to understand and forgive everything that Merlin had done - willingly or under duress. So many difficult decisions . . . His past was filled with them.

  


“I’ve never thought I’d hear you say something like that, and I’ve heard you say almost too many ridiculous things over the years,” Arthur sighed.

  


Merlin decided that silence would be the best answer to that.

  


But he knew there were still questions that Arthur wanted to ask and he’d ask them soon. Once they were completely alone in the forest and before they found a meadow.

  


And he was right. The silence didn’t even last three minutes before Arthur spoke again.

  


“So about the prophecy . . . Where have you heard about it?”

  


“It was right after I arrived at Camelot, even before I became your servant,” Merlin answered. He neglected to mention the fact that the one who told him was the Great Dragon himself. The dragon they were now going to meet, despite Merlin’s hidden hesitation and slight fear.

  


“So is there another sorcerer living in Camelot?” Arthur continued asking. “Or was it Gaius?”

  


Merlin shook his head. “No. It was . . . someone else.”

  


“Do I know him?”

  


Merlin raised his eyebrows at that. “You met him once or twice,” he answered honestly. He didn’t know how else to avoid revealing the dragon’s identity to Arthur, and he knew that he couldn’t. But he feared Arthur’s reaction.

  


He also feared the dragon’s reaction. The last time he saw him, he had to threaten to kill him. There were times when he had considered Kilgharrah . . . almost his friend. He was always full of riddles and he could also be very, very selfish, but he was the only one wise enough to help Merlin with some of the troubles that he’d encountered in Camelot while trying to save Arthur or the entire kingdom.

  


And then when Merlin let him go and he attacked . . . It made Merlin feel so _guilty._ Because how could he not have expected it? The dragon had been imprisoned by Uther for twenty whole years, even the nicest person in the world wouldn’t be happy about that. Certainly not Kilgharrah. But everything that’s happened in the days after that . . . Merlin blamed himself for all of it. He blamed himself for what he did to Morgana, for all the innocent people in Camelot that died, for his father’s death . . . It all could have been avoided.

  


But now he was the last Dragonlord and he had to accept that. He had spoken to Kilgharrah as kin and commanded him to never attack Camelot ever again. Deep down, Merlin hoped that Kilgharrah and he shared their goal - for magic to be free again in Camelot. Kilgharrah was the one who told Merlin about the prophecy after all.

  


Yes, Merlin was angry with him, and he was scared to face him again after what he had to go through to stop him. He also feared that the dragon would be bitter and refuse to help him now.

  


Who’d ever heard of a time travelling spell after all?

  


But Kilgharrah never wanted to kill him or Arthur . . . or did he? He was Merlin’s only chance of ever having his old life back. If he ever had to talk to the dragon again or use his Dragonlord powers, it had to be now. If not for him, then for Arthur. He had to become a king.

  


And he deserved to know the whole truth.

  


Merlin sighed and stopped walking, turning to the prince. He looked into his eyes and said, “Arthur, you’re not going to like this at all, I don’t like it either, but-” He opened his mouth, but couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  


Would Arthur hate him more? Did he even hate him? He’s been so nice to him ever since . . . they almost died. He helped him wake up during the nightmare that Merlin refused to think about again. He washed his hands and patched up all his injuries. He even let him sleep in the bed and slept on the floor himself.

  


They kept looking into each other’s eyes, Merlin thinking about everything about this moment and how his next words were going to change it forever. Arthur only raised his eyebrows, waiting for his answer. “Well?”

  


Merlin closed his eyes briefly and then took a deep breath. “What I’m going to tell you now might change everything you think about me and you might actually leave me and return to Camelot.”

  


Arthur shook his head and crossed his arms on his chest. “I doubt that.”

  


It didn’t make Merlin feel better though. “The person who told me about the prophecy . . . was . . . the dragon.”

  


Arthur’s eyes widened and his arms dropped down. Then he frowned again and took a tiny step back. Merlin watched all of that in silence and regret and in fear.

  


Finally, Arthur spoke, “ _What?_ ”

  


“I’m sorry!” Merlin hurriedly added. “We’re about to meet him today.”

  


“He’s-” Arthur swallowed as he closed his eyes and grabbed his head. “You’re telling me that he’s not dead?”

  


Merlin only pursed his lips.

  


“Oh my god,” Arthur gritted his teeth as he looked at Merlin in disbelief. “ _Mer_ lin, I can’t believe . . . Dragons can _talk?_ And _how_ did he escape the castle? Did you let him out? Why did he stop attacking Camelot?” Merlin was silent, but Arthur wouldn’t have that. He frowned at him as he yelled, “Tell me!”

  


Merlin felt tears prickle in his eyes. He nodded. “I let him out. And I was the one to cast him away.”

  


“How the hell would you be able to do that?”

  


“I’m the last Dragonlord,” Merlin merely shrugged, his voice weak.

  


Arthur frowned at him in confusion and then he closed his eyes. Merlin couldn’t even try to guess what he was thinking about. Probably about all those people Kilgharrah had murdered the night he attacked. The people that had kept Merlin awake for weeks, the guilt eating him day and night.

  


“I can’t believe you’ve never told me,” Arthur laughed humorlessly as he looked at Merlin.

  


“We haven’t exactly had the time to talk yet.”

  


Arthur seemed like he had a hard time processing this. He turned on the spot and raised his voice, “I should have-” but then he stopped himself and just looked at Merlin.

  


“What? You should have let me- let me _burn_?” Merlin couldn’t help but say that. Talking about it wasn’t easy though. And judging by Arthur’s reaction, they wouldn’t talk again anyway.

  


Arthur now stared at him in disbelief though. “No,” he shook his head. His voice was completely different, there was no anger behind it and Merlin couldn’t quite believe it. “I could never let you die, Merlin. You should know that.”

  


Merlin just shook his head. He felt the tears on his cheeks now. “I don’t know what to think anymore. I’ve disappointed you so much already and you’re still here. You left Camelot.”

  


Arthur pursed his lips. It looked like there was something he wanted to say, desperately so, but there was also something stopping him. Maybe the recent revelations about Merlin’s deeds.

  


“I’m angry, that’s true,” Arthur eventually told him. “But you’re still my friend,” he paused for a second and then his eyes met Merlin’s. “Dare I say _best_ friend. However unfortunate that seems to be sometimes.”

  


Merlin took a shaky breath, but he couldn’t smile. Not when there was still so much more Arthur didn’t know about him. And if Arthur still wanted to stay with him now . . . What was the worst thing that Merlin could do that Arthur would never forgive him? Was there even such thing? Was there a limit? A line that if Merlin crossed, Arthur would say goodbye to him forever?

  


“I consider you my best friend as well, Arthur,” he finally replied, no matter how broken that friendship was now.

  


Arthur nodded and patted his healthy shoulder. “Let’s go then,” he turned Merlin to the direction they had been heading and let his hand drop again. “I guess you have more to say.”

  


“I do,” Merlin nodded.

  


“Then start from the beginning. I need answers.”

  


Merlin knew that. And it was easy to say _start from the beginning_ like that, but so much harder to actually do it. Because where was Merlin supposed to start? Where was the beginning? What should he talk about about first?

  


“As I already told you . . . I never felt like I belonged in Ealdor,” he finally started after a little pause. “I was different. And only my best friend Will found out why.”

  


“Was he also a sorcerer?”

  


Merlin would never forget about the sacrifice Will had made for him and his future, in which he hadn’t even truly believed at first. “No,” Merlin answered with a heavy sigh.

  


Arthur only nodded.

  


Then, as Merlin was about to continue, Arthur spoke up first. “I’m sorry,” he said. It sounded like he meant it. Merlin knew he did, he remembered how quiet Arthur was right after Will died. He had respected Merlin’s grief before and he’d respect it now. Some people were worth his tears.

  


“It was a long time ago,” Merlin avoided further discussion of the unpleasant memories. It wasn’t _that_ long ago though, it’s only been about two years. He’d managed to do many more regretful things after that. He’d lived through similarly painful events and sometimes it was just easier to say that it happened a long time ago instead of giving in to the grief and opening the old wounds.

  


“Before that, my mother had sent me to Camelot to live with Gaius,” Merlin continued with the story. “With his help, I was supposed to learn how to control my magic. It was hard most of the time because my magic would react instinctively sometimes . . . Like Gaius had told me.”

  


“Honestly, Merlin, the biggest question here is how on Earth did no one ever notice you were even stranger than you were letting on.”

  


“You’re one of the people who never noticed, you know that, right?” Merlin replied with another question. When he glanced at the prince - for the first time since they started walking again, Arthur was looking at the ground and he rolled his eyes.

  


“I always knew there was . . . _something_ about you. I just-”

  


“Couldn’t quite put your finger on it?” Merlin smiled briefly. He remembered what Arthur had told him when they fought together on the market in the Lower Town. It was one of the first times he’d come close to being discovered as a sorcerer, almost caught red-handed because he’d had to fight with magic to even have a chance to defend himself. He hadn’t feared Arthur until that moment, that very sentence. But once he became his servant, his fear started diminishing.

  


And look at him now. Talking to Arthur about all of this with almost no fear towards him, but so many hidden fears inside.

  


“Exactly,” Arthur said. “But where does the dragon come in?”

  


Arthur was impatient and grumpy. Merlin knew that. And unfortunately he couldn’t see the end of the forest anywhere and not even a hint of a meadow. This would be a long conversation.

  


But honestly, Merlin was a bit surprised at how curious rather than angry Arthur sounded. But this was the part of the story where his fear of Arthur’s reaction returned. “Soon after that,” he said, “he . . . _spoke_ to me. In the night. He called my name and I heard him in my head. I didn’t know who or what it was at the time, but-”

  


“And the best idea you came up with was to go straight to where that voice was supposed to be?”

  


“Yeah,” Merlin confirmed Arthur’s correct assumption. He knew Merlin after all. And most of Merlin’s ideas and plans sounded outright insane, Merlin knew that. For him though, they often worked out in the end.

  


“Not what I’d have done,” Arthur raised his eyebrows and sighed.

  


Merlin frowned at that. “What would you have done then?”

  


Arthur shrugged. “Firstly, I’d go to Gaius to tell him I was hearing voices in my head. That doesn’t sound normal at all.”

  


Merlin raised his eyebrow as well, folding his arms on his chest sort of awkwardly. The tiniest hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  


“What is that supposed to mean?” Arthur defended himself and sped up to walk beside Merlin. Up until that point, he was slightly behind, letting Merlin take the lead, even though neither of them really knew where they were going.

  


“Well, it’s to do with magic . . . And you’re still learning,” Merlin smirked.

  


“I know enough to understand.”

  


“Let yourself believe that,” Merlin was now truly smiling. It was almost surreal given their current situation and the conversation topic, but here they were, just like always, almost _bantering._

  


Merlin had wished they could go back to that. To the past Merlin and Arthur that were both happy and smiling at each other, hiding their glances. Merlin was sure Arthur had caught him staring at his backside at least once. But that was all in the past, and now it was only a wish that Merlin held close to his heart. Could his wish actually come true?

  


“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur warned. Merlin could hear the little smile in his voice. But soon it was gone as Arthur cleared his throat and looked away from Merlin at the far away trees. “What about that dragon then?”

  


Merlin nodded. “When I followed his voice, I found myself beneath the castle, in the caves. He was just sitting there on a huge piece of rock, repeating my name until I came to him.”

  


“Why would he do that?”

  


Merlin shrugged, wincing slightly when he felt his injured shoulder again. He adjusted the straps of his backpack and continued. “I don’t know, he might have somehow sensed I was in Camelot. He’s a creature of magic, he might have felt there was someone like him in the castle.”

  


“A creature of magic?” Arthur asked. Yes, it sounded insane to say such a thing about a person and not some magical beast, but that’s what Merlin has learned about himself so far. He was born of magic.

  


“Yes.” Merlin nodded. “Sometimes, when someone uses very strong magic close to me, I can feel it too.”

  


Arthur looked at Merlin in that moment, looking even more puzzled. “You can?”

  


Merlin nodded. He himself didn’t really understand that, so he decided to continue talking about Kilgharrah. They were supposed to meet him after all, if only they could find a meadow far enough from the village.

  


“When I finally found him under the castle, he told me about you and me and our shared destiny. About the prophecy and everything we needed to do together.” Well, not exactly, the dragon loved to talk in riddles, but Arthur probably didn’t care about that. “At first I couldn’t even believe him because I had only just met you and you were a prat-”

  


“Hey-”

  


“But it’s true,” Merlin chuckled slightly. Then the humour left him again and he sighed. “When I saved your life for the first time and your father made me your servant, I knew it was real - our destiny and everything that the dragon had told me. I knew that I had to protect you and make sure you were alive and well when the time came for you to become the king of Camelot-”

  


“I’m not some damsel in distress, Merlin.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

  


“More often than not, you are,” Merlin replied. “I’ve saved your life so many times-”

  


“And yet you haven’t told me about a single one of them.” Arthur argued as he glanced at him. Merlin had to admit he was right.

  


“Well, the first time it was the dagger. I pushed you out of its way and threw the chandelier on the sorceress so she would stop singing.” Merlin frowned as he thought about that. It was the first time he’d had to save the day and also the first time he’d felt panic as he saw everyone starting to fall asleep.

  


“And other times? This is the only one I know about.”

  


“You couldn’t have possibly known about the chandelier,” Merlin protested.

  


Arthur was silent for a moment and then he nodded. “Yes, alright, I didn’t know about that. But what was the next time you saved my life?”

  


“The knight, Valiant,” Merlin replied. “I practised all night, trying to learn a spell, but it didn’t work until the very last moment. I learned how to call the snakes on his shield to life in front of everyone to reveal him.”

  


“That was you?” Arthur asked incredulously. But surely he couldn’t have thought that Sir Valiant’s snakes just decided to ruin the day and show up out of the blue?

  


“It was me.” Merlin confirmed. “I hadn’t slept all night just to make sure the spell worked.”

  


Arthur didn’t say anything to that. And Merlin didn’t know whether to continue talking about all the other times he’s saved Arthur’s life or whether Arthur was more interested in the great dragon.

  


He didn’t have to think about it for too long though. To his left through the trees, he could see blue sky. There had to be a clearing of some sort, and they have been walking for at least an hour now, so they could be far enough from the village to call the dragon.

  


“There’s a meadow,” Arthur pointed to the spot that Merlin’s just noticed, and he changed their direction of walking.

  


Suddenly Merlin felt nervous. It’s been several months since he’d last spoken to the dragon. What would he say? Would he be angry that he couldn’t have his revenge because of Merlin? Would he be surprised that Merlin even thought of calling him again? Did Merlin even know how to call him here? He’s never done that before . . .

  


“Are you coming?” He heard Arthur’s voice. He didn’t even realize that he’d slowly stopped walking and just kind of stood there.

  


Merlin nodded and started walking again, getting closer and closer to the clearing. He joined Arthur and walked behind him, still thinking about how to call the dragon.

  


“Did you talk to the dragon often?” Arthur had another question.

  


Merlin had to think about that. He didn’t come to the dragon asking for advice too often, but often enough for him to wonder whether the dragon considered him annoying rather than a welcomed company. He never stopped talking about Arthur after all.

  


“I went to him every time I needed help or advice.” Merlin finally replied.

  


“You wanted advice from a dragon?”

  


It sounded like Arthur couldn’t even believe it, and he probably couldn’t. It must have been so strange to think about that when he didn’t even really know that dragons could talk this morning.

  


“He’s more than a thousand years old. And usually, his advice kind of helped. But there was a time when it almost cost my mother’s life.” Merlin hated to think about that. He felt so betrayed by the dragon, but in the end, everything turned out alright. “I’ll . . . talk about that later.” He sighed and hoped Arthur wouldn’t want answers now.

  


He didn’t.

  


They reached the meadow and walked to its middle. Then they stopped.

  


“Do you trust him?” Arthur asked as he looked up to the sky and at the forest around them. No one was there with them, they were alone.

  


“After what he did to Camelot?” Merlin sighed. “No. I don’t. But I do think that he doesn’t wish to harm us.”

  


“If you say so,” Arthur raised his eyebrows and then looked at Merlin again, waiting for something to happen.

  


This was the moment they were both waiting for. The moment he’d summon Kilgharrah and they’d finally talk. There would be a lot of anger, he was sure of that. Kilgharrah was angry with Arthur’s father, and Arthur was angry with Kilgharrah for harming Camelot and her people, and Merlin was angry with Kilgharrah too for the same reason, but he also knew that he could command him to leave if needed.

  


But not before they got their answers.

  


Merlin cleared his throat and looked around. Where would the dragon be? In Camelot? In another kingdom? Far away or close? How long would it take for him to reach them? How was Merlin supposed to summon him at all?

  


“Merlin, we don’t have the whole day,” he heard Arthur say impatiently.

  


“Maybe . . . Maybe we don’t need to call the dragon.” Merlin mused. What if he used his spell book at first? What if he looked through it to find the spell he needed? What if there was a page that he’d accidentally skipped every time he flipped through the book in the past?

  


“What?”

  


The way Arthur was looking at him was a clear enough answer for Merlin. He knew there were no time travelling spells in the spell book that Gaius has given him. Kilgharrah was his only source.

  


“Nothing,” Merlin shook his head and closed his eyes. “Nothing,” he repeated. Then he took a deep breath and looked around. “Step aside,” he told Arthur as he distanced himself from him. He had no idea how to do this, but he knew he’d be able to.

  


He was able to command the dragon before. He felt his father there with him. His father could summon the dragon easily, and now Merlin had that same power. He just had to believe.

  


Merlin took a deep breath again and looked at the ground. Slowly, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh, trying to concentrate.

  


He needed to talk to the dragon.

  


He needed him here.

  


_Now._

  


_. . ._

  


He threw his head back as he looked up at the sky and the words he needed to say just came to him out of nowhere. “ _O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!_ ” He felt the power come from within him as he roared the words into the sky.

  


He knew now that the dragon would come.

  


Merlin slowly looked down again, taking a deep breath and turning to look at Arthur. The prince’s mouth was open in shock, but he closed it, his eyes still wide.

  


Merlin felt like he was having a similar reaction to all of this.

  


When he calmed down a bit, he walked back to Arthur and let his backpack fall to the ground. He had no idea where Kilgharrah was after all.

  


“Now what?” Arthur asked.

  


“Now we wait,” Merlin sat down on the grass and sighed. Arthur did the same next to him, but not too close. He kept some distance.

  


What if it took hours before Kilgharrah came? What if he couldn’t find them? What if someone heard him yell? What if the knights would find them here before Kilgharrah came?

  


Those were all questions that plagued Merlin’s mind. But soon he didn’t have to think about them anymore because they didn’t have to wait for long. It only took about ten minutes for Kilgharrah to arrive. Apparently, dragons travelled fast.

  


“His name is Kilgharrah,” Merlin whispered to Arthur as he stood up and waited for the dragon to land.

  


“What?” He heard Arthur hiss behind him, but he ignored him.

  


Kilgharrah’s wings were wide above them as his feet touched the ground. Merlin almost forgot how huge Kilgharrah was. He’s only ever seen him in a cave, and only once in a meadow like this. Back then, he didn’t really think about how big Kilgharrah was, only about how to stop him.

  


Kilgharrah folded his wings next to his body and looked down at Merlin and Arthur behind him. His golden eyes narrowed and then landed on Merlin again.

  


He bowed his head. “It seems we meet again, young warlock,” he spoke in his deep voice.

  


Merlin nodded. “We do.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The dragon landed and Arthur just stood there with his mouth open. He was speechless. The dragon was so big that Arthur had to bend his head all the way back to look up at him. The last time he saw him, he didn’t seem that big. Maybe it was because the last time he saw him, it was dark.

  


Arthur’s hand slowly landed on the hilt of his sword by his waist, unintentionally. The dragon narrowed his eyes at him and Arthur swallowed.

  


He didn’t know whether the dragon was thinking about eating him right now, he was Uther’s son after all. But Merlin said he believed the dragon didn’t want to harm them. But he also said he didn’t trust him after what happened in Camelot.

  


So many innocent people died. Men, women, the elderly and the children . . . Arthur was so angry about all of that. How could Merlin have let that dragon escape? How could he have let him go? Hadn’t he thought about the dragon possibly wanting revenge? Was he really that stupid?

  


Arthur took a deep breath and frowned up at the beast. All that anger in him was getting dangerously close to the surface. He tried to hide it around Merlin because of what happened the day before and because of how distant Merlin seemed, but right now it was hard not to start yelling at the beast.

  


And still, a part of Arthur wanted to run away.

  


But dragons could breathe fire and could not be harmed by it themselves. Running wouldn’t help him.

  


The dragon looked at Merlin and seemed to have a concerned smile on his face. Was he afraid of Merlin or just evil?

  


“It seems we meet again, young warlock.” The dragon said and surprisingly bowed his head as far down as it would go.

  


“We do,” Merlin nodded at him. “I need help.”

  


The dragon chuckled at that. “That is not a surprise. Why else would you summon me? After what I did to your kingdom.”

  


“You’ve killed innocent men and women! You’ve killed many of my loyal knights and yet you smile?” Arthur took a step forward as he yelled at the beast - the anger inside him finally spilling out. He tightened his hold on the sword- but then Merlin’s hand was suddenly on his forearm, stopping him from unsheathing the weapon.

  


“You should first ask your father what he has done!” The dragon roared at him. “My deeds are nothing in comparison to Uther Pendragon’s!”

  


“Enough!” Merlin yelled, “Both of you!” He looked at Arthur and the dragon, but Arthur ignored him, his eyes still fixed on the dragon’s face. He desperately wanted to unsheathe his sword and do something, protect Merlin if it was needed, but he knew he had to calm down. They needed all the information the dragon could give them.

  


Arthur let go of his sword and looked down. Merlin then slowly removed his hand from Arthur’s forearm and looked at the dragon again.

  


“I have shown you mercy,” he told him.

  


The dragon bowed his head again and then looked closely at Merlin, not paying any attention to Arthur anymore. “You did.” In that moment, he didn’t seem _evil._ Not at all like Uther had described dragons to him when he was a little boy. The dragon looked almost grateful. It confused Arthur, but he tried to trust Merlin on this.

  


“What do you need?” The dragon asked.

  


“I need to know if there are any spells that can turn back time.”

  


The dragon seemed to be surprised by that judging by his raised eyebrows. Did dragons have eyebrows?

  


“And how did you find yourself in the unfortunate need of such a spell?”

  


Merlin looked down and sighed.

  


“There is a witchfinder in Camelot,” Arthur spoke before Merlin could. Merlin turned to look at him, but Arthur was looking at the dragon as he carefully stepped closer. Again, he placed his palm on the hilt of his sword, just for safety.

  


The dragon looked at him and narrowed his eyes again. “That is indeed unfortunate, young Pendragon.”

  


“Merlin was almost . . . executed,” Arthur glanced at Merlin, who seemed to have closed his eyes briefly as Arthur mentioned that. Arthur then looked back at the dragon. “That is why we need . . . your help.”

  


Arthur still wasn’t sure whether a _dragon_ could be of any help, especially _this_ dragon, but anything was worth a shot now.

  


“I have nowhere to go,” Merlin added, his voice quieter than before. The dragon nodded as he looked at him, but he wasn’t smiling as before.

  


“I am truly saddened by that, Merlin. You need to stay in Camelot to help Arthur, it is your destiny and your future. But I do not know how to achieve this, there are no spells that would bend time to your will.”

  


“There aren’t?” Arthur could hear Merlin’s lost hope in those two words.

  


The dragon shook his head.

  


“Maybe,” Arthur spoke again, “maybe there’s another way to return to Camelot and have our old lives.”

  


Merlin turned to him again. “And how do you want to do that?” He seemed a bit irritated, which surprised Arthur. “Everyone knows my face in Camelot, I’m _your_ manservant. No one will ever forget that I lived in Camelot and worked in the castle and yet had magic.”

  


Arthur frowned at that. Merlin was right. No one will ever forget it. Everyone will remember him for this.

  


“What if you changed your name and the way you look?” He suggested. It was a desperate solution, but he didn’t have anything else right now.

  


“Such a spell would be impossible to hold forever.” Merlin just shook his head. His eyes were glistening and even after all that hurt and betrayal, Arthur didn’t like to see that.

  


“Well, what do _you_ suggest then?” he asked him. “Do we just knock everyone out and hope that they forget the last few days?”

  


Merlin opened his mouth to most probably give him a witty reply, but then he stopped. He frowned and looked at the dragon who was just silently watching them this entire time and his eyes filled with hope again.

  


“Kilgharrah?” He frowned with worry as he spoke to the dragon again. “If there are no spells that would take us to the past . . . Are there any spells that could wipe memory?”

  


The dragon narrowed his eyes and then nodded. Merlin’s smile widened. “There are, indeed.”

  


Merlin smiled at Arthur and it warmed him to see him smile again, but he didn’t understand exactly what the plan was just yet.

  


“What do you want to do? Enchant every single citizen in the kingdom?” he asked doubtfully.

  


Merlin shrugged. “Maybe I can manage to somehow include everyone? I don’t know,” he turned back to the dragon.

  


“I believe you are strong enough to do such a thing, Merlin.” The dragon answered.

  


“But there aren’t spells like that in my spell book. Do you know any?”

  


The dragon sighed. “I do not, young warlock. These are very powerful and dangerous spells and you need to be very sure that they are what you want to use.”

  


“It’s my only chance.”

  


The dragon nodded. “Then you need to be careful. I only know of one sorcerer who used to experiment with such spells.”

  


“Who is it?” Arthur asked.

  


“His name was Cornelius Sigan,” the dragon looked at him.

  


Arthur knew that name. He thought he was just a legend, a made-up sorcerer who helped build Camelot, but Kaunos had already told him Sigan was real. If he knew the answer though, they were doomed. He was already dead.

  


“What?” Merlin frowned up at the dragon and then closed his eyes, turning around on the spot, seemingly in frustration. “But he’s dead, I made sure of that.”

  


Wait, _what_?

  


“His soul is back in the jewel, and we can’t go back to Camelot to uncover the tomb where it is hidden.”

  


What on Earth was Merlin talking about?

  


“The sorcerer might never return Merlin, but his knowledge isn’t lost.”

  


Merlin seemed like he understood whatever he was talking about with the dragon, but Arthur was becoming more lost every second.

  


“Where can we find his knowledge?” his servant asked.

  


“Logically, in Sigan’s castle.”

  


“He’s got a castle?”

  


The dragon closed his eyes briefly in agreement. “He indeed used to have one before he left and helped build Camelot.”

  


So the legend was true.

  


“He dedicated his life to trying to cheat death-” the dragon continued.

  


“He certainly managed that.”

  


“-but he was ordered to be executed. Cheating death wasn’t the only thing he worked on, and his spells should be found in his castle still, I believe.”

  


“Well, where is it?” Arthur asked. He was getting impatient. The dragon was giving them information that they needed, but very slowly. And they were still kind of in a hurry.

  


“That I do not know.”

  


“Great,” Arthur rolled his eyes.

  


“It is said to be hidden close to where the sorcerer was born.”

  


“Where was he born?” Merlin asked, ignoring Arthur’s comments.

  


“A village called Earlen.”

  


Arthur felt like he should just start shouting in frustration. Did the dragon _not_ know that village was one hour walk from where they were all standing? How Merlin could ever have taken advice from him and not get frustrated beyond belief, Arthur didn’t know.

  


“That’s the village we just left!” Merlin exclaimed, but with s smile on his face. He glanced at Arthur and then at the dragon again. “I can’t believe we’re this lucky!”

  


“We still don’t know _exactly_ where it is though,” Arthur pointed out. “Maybe the villagers know it, or at least heard about it.”

  


The look Merlin gave him at that moment could not be described better than with the sentence _you must be joking_.

  


“We can’t go back into the village,” Merlin said.

  


“I don’t think we have a choice, Merlin, these woods are wide and we have no idea where to start.”

  


“We can just search for it together, or split up.”

  


Arthur was already shaking his head. “We’d be looking forever. And what if the knights find you while I’m not there, take you back to Camelot and-”

  


“And kill me?” Merlin finished for him. “What if the same happens when we go back to the village?”

  


“I’ll protect you there, it won’t happen.”

  


“There won’t be a single knight, there will be more of them, you can’t take them all. They’ll probably just arrest you with me.”

  


“You don’t even know if there will be knights in the village!”

  


“But what if they are?” Merlin yelled.

  


Arthur looked at him with a firm determination in his eyes. “Then we’ll just have to risk it. There’s no other option, you said it yourself, Merlin.”

  


“But-”

  


Arthur raised his hand to silent him. To his surprise, it worked. “We _need_ to go.” He repeated.

  


Merlin closed his eyes briefly and sighed. He must have known Arthur was right. There was just no other option left for them, they were lucky enough there was some castle with ancient knowledge to begin with, and so close to them. They just had to ask and search for it and then hopefully find it.

  


Merlin finally nodded, but crossed his arms on his chest. Then he looked at the dragon. “Thank you for your help, Kilgharrah.”

  


The dragon merely bowed again. Then he spread his wings and turned away from them, lifting his body into the air and flying away. Arthur watched his enormous body quickly turn into a little dark spot among the clouds and then he turned to Merlin again.

  


Suddenly, he didn’t seem annoyed or just hesitant. He seemed afraid. He was biting his lower lip and his arms were still folded protectively on his chest. He was looking at his feet and he was frowning.

  


Arthur didn’t know what to say, or whether to say anything at all.

  


Merlin was clearly shaken by the events of the previous evening, and perhaps the possibility of meeting the knights in the village was more stressful for him than Arthur had thought.

  


“You’ll . . . “ Merlin suddenly spoke, his voice weak. “You’ll protect me?”

  


He didn’t look up.

  


Arthur straightened himself up and nodded, although Merlin couldn’t see that. “I’ll protect you.”

  


“Thank you.”

  


Arthur didn’t answer to that. He finally removed his hand from the hilt of the sword that he realized he was still holding and picked up Merlin’s backpack, putting it on his own back. Then he slowly started walking away, Merlin following him.

  


They were going back to Earlen.

  


Closer to Camelot.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mountains of Andor are on the official map of Camelot made by BBC, and I assume it's where the Tunnels of Andor are located. These tunnels were in the episode 2x04 Lancelot and Guinevere. They're infested with Wilddeoren and are near the Mercian border (North-East from Camelot).


	9. The Castle

They left the meadow, walking side by side, and returning back to the village called Earlen. The forest was quiet and cold, and the silence between them seemed uncomfortable. Arthur knew that Merlin didn’t want to return to the village, but they really didn’t have a choice. Finding that castle was their only chance of having their old lives back.

 

And at least now Arthur was sure he would remember what happened. He had no idea how time travel would even work or if he would remember Merlin had magic once it was done. But Merlin wouldn’t include him in the spell that they were going to end up using, Arthur trusted him on that. Surely he wouldn’t want to go through all of this again.

 

Neither did Arthur. He hated that the silence was awkward, he hated that Merlin’s gaze was fixed on the ground in front of him and he hated how distant Merlin seemed again.

 

But most of all, he hated all the lies between them. There were so many, it was like their entire relationship was built on them. One white lie after another, together becoming a web of untruths.

 

Arthur understood why Merlin had to lie in the beginning, what he didn’t understand was why he hadn’t confined in him sooner. Sure, he’d react the same way and be angry, but by now that would be in the past already and they would be back to normal.

 

Wouldn’t they?

 

The silence was becoming unbearable. Arthur had to say something. Ask something. He had so many things to ask, so why couldn’t he come up with anything right now?

 

“What did you mean when you said that you’ve taken care of Cornelius Sigan?” he finally found a question.

 

Merlin’s head didn’t move as he answered. “Remember Cedric?”

 

Arthur frowned slightly. He did remember him. He was a sorcerer who had pretended to be a commoner working for him.

 

“He tried to steal my job about two years ago,” Merlin added.

 

“Anyone could be better at your job than you are, Merlin, he didn’t even have to try hard.”

 

“Why are you keeping me around then?” Merlin gave him a question that seemed innocent, but had such a long and complicated answer filled with all the feelings that were fighting in Arthur’s heart.

 

He kept Merlin around because he was funny. He was an idiot, but one that could be passionate about so many things.

 

He kept Merlin because he was the only one who dared defy Arthur and actually treated him like a human being instead of a prince.

 

He kept Merlin because they’ve become friends.

 

He loved Merlin because only he was brave enough to face him when he was wrong.

 

He loved Merlin because he was Merlin.

 

He loved him.

 

Arthur glanced at him and at the way the sun illuminated Merlin’s short fringe and the blue of his irises. The blue that could so easily turn into gold, brighter than the sun.

 

“I keep you around because you’re my friend,” Arthur answered finally.

 

Merlin was silent for a moment, probably thinking about his answer.

 

“That’s far from _I think we would probably get on, you know, if I wasn’t a prince,”_ Merlin brought back something that Arthur had said a couple of months ago, when they were on the quest to find the last Dragonlord.

 

So many things have changed over that time.

 

“It is,” Arthur confirmed. Then he cleared his throat and added, “So what about Cedric?”

 

“Don’t you remember? He was possessed by the soul of Cornelius Sigan.”

 

“What?” Arthur stopped and grabbed Merlin’s forearm to stop him too when he continued walking. Merlin turned to him and shrugged with one shoulder.

 

“I told you he was possessed, I thought you knew this?” Merlin seemed confused as well.

 

Arthur shook his head. “I knew he was a sorcerer and yeah, maybe possessed, but I didn’t realize . . . “

 

“I told you who he was possessed by.” Merlin pointed out.

 

Arthur pursed his lips. “I must have forgotten that.” He admitted. Then he added another question. “But how did you take care of him?”

 

Merlin nodded towards the village and Arthur let go of his arm as they both starting to walk side by side again. Then Merlin finally answered. “I went to the dragon for help. I . . . promised to release him one day and for that he gave me a spell that would defeat Sigan.”

 

“That’s why you released him?” Arthur frowned. Simply because of a promise? Sometimes it’s better to break promises when fulfilling them brings destruction and death.

 

“He’s helped me many more times after and before that, it wasn’t only for that.” Merlin explained, but Arthur still didn’t get it. So many people died! But Merlin knew that. He must have felt guilty about everything, and as Arthur promised himself, he wouldn’t get angry at him. He didn’t want to see him wince again and act even more distant.

 

The fire changed everything.

 

“The soul of Cornelius Sigan almost entered me as well, but I managed to use the spell before that. His soul got trapped in the jewel that had been found in the tomb before that, that’s why it was blue.”

 

“When did that even happen? And where? Surely someone would have to notice this happening?” Arthur frowned. Honestly, if Merlin did things like this almost every week in Camelot, he had no idea how he wasn’t already discovered.

 

“Well, you were knocked out.”

 

“What?” Arthur did _not_ remember that.

 

“It’s true, I ran to the courtyard, only to find you on the ground unconscious. Only Sigan was there at the time, that’s when he realized I had magic.”

 

“Honestly, Merlin, this sounds more and more like you made it all up.” Arthur commented and looked away from Merlin while they still walked. He remembered waking up in the courtyard, but he was alone.

 

Merlin looked at him like Arthur was joking. “I save your royal backside so many times and you think I’m making it up?” He asked incredulously. Then he looked away and sighed, “Maybe I should have accepted Sigan’s offer then.”

 

Arthur frowned. “What offer are you talking about?”

 

“Before I trapped him in the jewel, he’d offered me a position of power. I would rule alongside him and you’d kneel at my feet. I refused.”

 

“You’d never accept such an offer,” Arthur chuckled humorlessly. Even after so many lies, he _knew_ Merlin. He knew Merlin cared about him - why else would he heal his arm and be willing to return to a dangerous village to find a castle with a spell that would allow him to come back to Camelot, when he could just run away right now and never see Arthur again?

 

“You sound sure.”

 

“I am.”

 

He heard a hint of a smile in Merlin’s reply. “Well, you’re right, I wouldn’t accept that.” Merlin told him. “And Cornelius Sigan will hopefully never return.”

 

“We only need his castle and what’s inside it.” Arthur nodded.

 

Merlin’s smile disappeared as he nodded as well. He kept looking at his feet as he walked and almost made it Arthur’s job to make sure he didn’t hit any trees.

 

Arthur knew what was on Merlin’s mind. The village. The possibility of meeting the knights and getting arrested. They could bring the handcuffs again. Or if they were destroyed in the fire, who knew what else Kaunos had and could use against them?

 

But Arthur would keep his promise. He’d protect Merlin.

 

They continued walking in silence, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It was slowly but surely getting back to how it used to be.

 

Maybe their relationship could be fixed after all. Arthur hoped it could.

 

The village was slightly over an hour away from the place where they’d met the dragon, and it wasn’t even time for the lunch yet when they finally reached it again. Arthur had thought that Merlin would want to stay on the edge of the forest once Arthur went to ask people about the castle, but when he continued walking and Merlin followed him, Arthur understood that Merlin probably didn’t want to be left alone.

 

He must have felt so vulnerable with those handcuffs on his wrists. And if they put them on him again . . .

 

Arthur sighed and continued walking between the houses with Merlin next to him, carefully and slowly just in case the knights had already found where they’d spent the night. They stopped only when they reached some sort of a market for the people who lived here. There weren’t many people, just around twenty and the rest were probably working in the field or in their houses.

 

Arthur spotted an old woman that sat on a bench by her three baskets of carrots. She must have been selling them. A younger woman with a young boy approached her and walked away with a couple of carrots in their hands.

 

Once they were gone and the old woman was alone again, Arthur approached her together with Merlin.

 

“Good morning,” he greeted her. She only nodded.

 

Arthur glanced at Merlin and noticed that he had wrapped his jacket around his torso, hiding his neckerchief and blue tunic as he hugged himself. A disguise of sorts perhaps.

 

“We are looking for a castle,” Arthur turned back to the woman when he saw he wouldn’t get a word out of Merlin here. “An ancient castle that once belonged to Cornelius Si-”

 

The woman gasped and her previously narrowly closed eyes widened. “You cannot talk about him in this kingdom!” She hissed at him. Then she slowly took a carrot and offered it to him with an almost toothless smile.

 

Arthur didn’t need carrots, he needed information. “We really need to know where the castle is.”

 

The woman kept her shaking palm with a carrot in it in front of him and didn’t answer. Arthur sighed. Did she even know anything about the castle? She seemed old enough to at least remember the stories . . .

 

Then he suddenly felt someone’s hand in his pocket. He turned to see that it was Merlin’s hand in there. _Merlin’s hand was in his trousers!-_ Arthur blinked and cleared his throat silently. Merlin then fished out the last coin that Arthur had and gave it to the old woman, smiling at her as best as he could.

 

She smiled back and accepted the coin, placing the carrot in Merlin’s hand who then gave it to Arthur without even looking at him.

 

“Well?” Arthur asked now that she had gotten his last bit of money. “Do you know where the castle is?”

 

“What castle are you talking about, young man?”

 

Arthur was becoming impatient. “The one that belonged to Cornel-”

 

The woman gasped again. “You cannot talk about him in this kingdom! Don’t you know he was executed?”

 

Arthur straightened up as he looked at Merlin. Either this woman had terrible memory, which wasn’t that unusual for her age, or she didn’t want to give them any information. Maybe she was scared, or just selfish, Arthur didn’t know.

 

Merlin didn’t seem happy either.

 

“I guess we’ll have to ask someone else.”

 

“Wait.” Merlin placed his hand gently on Arthur’s forearm to stop him from leaving.

 

He knelt down to be on the same level as the woman and smiled at her. “Do you remember when you were young?” he asked her. The woman’s eyes found his and lit up.

 

“That is a long time ago, my boy,” she put her hand on Merlin’s hand that was resting on his knee.

 

“Do you remember a castle?” he asked. “A beautiful castle around this village? A castle from stories that your parents kept telling you?”

 

The woman’s smile disappeared. “A terrible, terrible castle.” She looked somewhere behind him as her brows furrowed at the memory. “Dark, so dark. Cursed.” She added.

 

“We need to find it.” Merlin told her. “Where is it?”

 

“We used to play there, but they forbade it,” she told him as her eyes found him again.

 

Arthur was both incredulous at how well Merlin managed to communicate with her and impatient that it was taking so long. She was just talking in circles. Who knew if she even remembered where the castle was?

 

“Tell me where it is,” Merlin asked her.

 

She was silent for a while. “Around the field . . . way up North . . . behind the big rock, go forth, forth,” she finally whispered.

 

Great, now she wasn’t even making sense anymore.

 

“Thank y-”

 

“Hey, are you bothering Old Bertie? What are you doing?” Someone called at them. They both turned around to see a man around 40 years old on his way to them. “Let her be happy selling carrots!”

 

“This wasn’t a good idea,” Arthur told Merlin.

 

“I know, I _told_ you.”

 

“Leave her alone!”

 

“We’re leaving!” Arthur raised his hands into the air in front of himself to show that he was unarmed. Then he turned to Merlin and took his arm, moving away from the old lady.

 

They sped up when they saw the man wanted to follow them, but eventually he stopped and returned to the old woman, talking to her.

 

“At least we know where it is now,” Merlin told him once they made it to the edge of the forest on the other side of the village.

 

“What?” Arthur looked at him. “All we got was a children’s rhyme that doesn’t make sense.”

 

“Around the field, way up North, behind the big rock, go forth forth,” Merlin repeated what the woman had told them. “I think that’s enough information for us to at least try to use.”

 

“Fine,” Arthur nodded. “We can try to find the castle, but we might need to go back to the village again later.”

 

“Not when we find it,” Merlin shook his head as he started walking again, towards the nearest (and only) field that this village had.

 

“If,” Arthur corrected him.

 

Despite Arthur’s doubts, he hoped Merlin’s optimism was well placed and they would eventually find it. He didn’t want to go to the village again any more than Merlin did.

 

Especially after that strange encounter with the man. Arthur was only glad that no one seemed to recognise him there, but if that man remembered him now . . .

 

Arthur looked at the carrot that was still in his hand and examined it. That woman was old, but she still knew how to grow good carrots. He put it in his pocket and followed Merlin on his way to the field.

 

If they couldn’t find the castle, there was no reason for Merlin to come back to Camelot at all. And nor was there one for Arthur.

 

Because what life would that be, without Merlin by his side?

 

 

  

 

 

As Merlin walked up the hill along the field, he couldn’t stop the fear that was growing inside him. Because what if Arthur was right? What if what that old woman had told them was all nonsense? What if that rhyme wouldn’t lead them anywhere? What if they’d have to return to the village and ask someone more sensible? But the more people they asked, the more people would remember them and might tell the knights later . . .

 

Merlin closed his eyes briefly as he walked. Then he took a deep breath to calm down and tried to smile. At least they had _something_.

 

_Around the field, way up North, behind the big rock, go forth, forth._

 

The first two instructions were clear, the third one was too unless they couldn’t find any rock and the fourth seemed like something only added to make it rhyme.

 

Merlin hoped it would lead them to the castle.

 

If they couldn’t find it, he might never have the chance to return to Camelot. He might live alone in a village that he didn’t know, like this one. Eventually, he’d manage to persuade Arthur in going back to Camelot and therefore Merlin would live his life alone.

 

Maybe only until Arthur would become the king, but still. He couldn’t stay that long away from him.

 

Not only because of his destiny, but because his heart would never allow him to do that. His heart that was singing every time Arthur looked at him and didn’t seem angry, every time that Merlin looked at Arthur when Arthur wasn’t looking. . . His heart was hard to get used to when it jumped every time Arthur spoke to him.

 

Maybe he could stay away from Camelot. But he’d be dead inside. His heart would never again sing like that.

 

“Around the field,” he heard Arthur mumble behind him and Merlin had to smile. Thank god Arthur couldn’t see him. “We’re going North . . . “

 

“This is the only field this village has, we can’t be wrong about that. We started at the bottom of the field in the village, and are walking _around_ it, up to the forest.”

 

“And then we need to go North, that isn’t hard to do.”

 

Merlin looked up at the sun and nodded. They were already walking North, so they didn’t even have to change direction.

 

They reached the end of the field and entered the forest. Merlin didn’t stop walking. His feet hurt because with little to no food came little to no energy and the castle was probably far away. But Merlin didn’t stop. He couldn’t give up.

 

Not now, when Arthur seemed to have accepted his magic.

 

They kept walking North for at least another hour, sometimes in silence, sometimes talking. They never saw any rock or even a big stone in their way. They kept looking everywhere around them as they walked straight North from the field.

 

No rock. No castle. No nothing. Only the forest.

 

“If we keep walking, we’re going to reach the Vale of Denaria,” Arthur said after a while.

 

“What’s there?” Merlin asked.

 

“Nothing, only more forest and hills.” Arthur shrugged.

 

So far, their searching seemed fruitless. It was frustrating, but it was pointless to return to the village now. They were pretty far away from there already and besides, Merlin didn’t want to return there.

 

Even if Arthur promised to protect him, what if there were too many knights? Merlin frowned when he thought about that. Arthur did defeat ten bandits a few days ago. With Merlin’s help. And if Merlin had the handcuffs . . .

 

Merlin had to close his eyes again. He didn’t want to think about them. He could almost still feel that pain if he thought about it. Distant, but intense.

 

It was something he never wanted to experience again.

 

But he trusted Arthur. Even if Arthur didn’t say it out loud, Merlin knew he still cared about him. He must have. Why else would he keep following him when he could return to Camelot and leave Merlin here?

 

“Did you help with the Afanc as well?” he suddenly heard Arthur ask.

 

“The Afanc?” How did Arthur even know its name?

 

“That’s what it was called, wasn’t it? That monster that we found in Camelot’s water supply.”

 

Arthur must have made a trip to the library then. Merlin didn’t even know Arthur knew what books were. Or that there was one that told him about such monsters as an Afanc . . .

 

“Yes,” he answered.

 

“Yes, that’s what it was called or yes, I helped with that too.”

 

“Yes,” Merlin repeated and couldn’t fight off the small smile on his lips. This is what he missed the most, how they _used_ to talk. Their bantering. A sign of friendship being mended again.

 

He heard Arthur sigh. “How did you know what to do?” he asked eventually, figuring out Merlin’s answer was yes to both.

 

“I went to the dragon,” Merlin said. “He told me that to fight an Afanc, I had to use the two remaining elements. An Afanc is a creature of earth and water, therefore I needed to use fire and air.”

 

Arthur was silent for a moment. “I was wondering what happened when the fire was so big all of a sudden.”

 

Merlin smiled slightly. “That was me.”

 

“I know that now.” Arthur nodded as he sped up to walk side by side with Merlin. Merlin appreciated that. “I also know that you were willing to drink from poisoned goblets twice for me, and once actually did.”

 

Merlin blushed at that. Suddenly, he wished Arthur had still been walking behind him. “I did.”

 

“Why?” was Arthur’s question.

 

“It’s my destiny to protect you, I couldn’t let you die,” Merlin said. It was the truth. Besides, by that time, he and Arthur had already seemed to have developed some kind of mutual understanding, almost friendship. Merlin was willing to die for Arthur because he knew Arthur’s life was more important than his. What was a mere servant compared to a prince?

 

“That couldn’t have been the only reason, you were willing to _die_ for me.” Arthur asked.

 

This was getting to a dangerous territory. What answer did Arthur want to hear? Did he want Merlin to spill his biggest secret right there and now? That although he hadn’t known that at that time he drank the poison, that mutual understanding has developed into not so mutual love?

 

Was Merlin supposed to say that he was in love with Arthur? That he loved him with all his heart? That he’d die for him again and again and again, over and over?

 

“I . . . You’re a prince, Arthur. You needed to become king, and I was nothing compared to that.” He answered finally.

 

He could tell Arthur was speechless. Perhaps he didn’t know Merlin thought so high of him or so low of himself, or he didn’t know that even back then, Merlin was prepared to die for this.

 

“You’re not _nothing_ , Merlin,” Arthur replied. “Every minute with you, I learn more about what you have done for this kingdom, for me.”

 

Arthur was uncharacteristically appreciative.

 

“And everything that I have lied to you about . . . “ Merlin added, completely turning what Arthur wanted to say around.

 

Arthur nodded. “Yes. You lied to me about many things, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t save Camelot.”

 

Merlin shrugged.

 

It wasn’t like Merlin was the only one willing to die for the other. Arthur himself travelled all the way to the forest of Balor purely for a stupid flower for his stupid servant. What did that say about him?

 

But before Merlin could point that out, they reached the end of the forest and entered a long and endless place full of hills and more forest on their left. That’s where the Vale of Denaria must have been. But they had to continue North.

 

“Do you think there’s the castle somewhere in the distance?” Merlin asked.

 

Arthur was silent for a moment, probably trying to think about how to not destroy Merlin’s last shred of hope. But there really wasn’t any better way of saying, “It’s supposed to be a hidden castle and if it was here, anyone would see it from anywhere.”

 

Merlin looked around at the hills and nodded. Arthur was right. The rhyme that they received from the old woman must have meant nothing. But the castle had to be somewhere around the village. They had been walking for two hours now, but Sigan could have built his castle anywhere close to the village.

 

“Wait, what’s that?” Arthur walked in front of him and pointed somewhere.

 

Far in the distance, on one of the hills there appeared to be a white circle. Or something that looked like a circle, possibly made of stones that looked like white dots from where they were standing.

 

Merlin walked over to Arthur. “Do you think it’s from the druids?” he asked. He knew circles of stones were kind of their thing, but who knew? It could have been hundreds of years old.

 

“I don’t know,” Arthur shrugged. “But it’s the first _something_ we found, I think it’s worth examining.”

 

“So we’re about to walk all the way over the hills towards that circle,” Merlin clarified as his stomach made a clearly disapproving noise. He was so hungry and tired already that he wasn’t sure he could make it there.

 

But he had to. He had to.

 

Arthur looked at him and must have seen Merlin’s doubts and hesitation. He took off his backpack and handed Merlin a waterskin and a piece of dried meat.

 

“Thanks,” Merlin accepted it and drank from it. He handed it back to Arthur, who drank from it as well and put it back into the backpack, taking another piece of dried meat. Then he put the backpack back on his back.

 

“We’ve only got four more of these,” he pointed at the meat Merlin was chewing. “We have to eat sparingly, and hopefully there will be a stream nearby to refill the waterskin.”

 

“There must be,” Merlin concluded. “If Sigan had a castle somewhere around here, he had to have a water supply.”

 

“That’s right,” Arthur nodded. “Then let’s go.”

 

They once again looked at the circle in the distance - their next destination - and then finally set off.

 

 

 

 

It took them another hour to finally reach the circle made of stones. The stones were slowly getting bigger and bigger and when they finally stood in front of them, they seemed higher than Merlin and Arthur. They were all white or grey with no markings on them.

 

“How could anyone even build this?” Arthur questioned with a frown on his face as he touched one of the stones.

 

Merlin shrugged. “Magic?”

 

“Right.”

 

Arthur nodded as he slowly dragged his palm over the smooth surface of the hard rock.

 

Merlin adjusted the straps of his backpack - he’d offered to carry it after they last ate - and came closer to the stones. He carefully entered the circle and looked around, the high stones all around him.

 

This place . . . Merlin could feel its magic. He didn’t know what purpose it once served or how long time ago, but he knew this was an important place to the Old Religion. Merlin closed his eyes and breathed in the atmosphere. It calmed him down. Made his anxiety and doubts melt away in just a few seconds.

 

When he opened his eyes again, he found Arthur staring at him, standing in between two rocks. The prince averted his eyes and cleared his throat, but Merlin kept the smile on his face.

 

“So where do we go now?” Arthur once again looked at him and returned him back to reality. “This is the only _rock_ we found on our way North, so I guess the old woman must have remembered _something._ ”

 

Merlin nodded. “Yeah. _Behind the big rock, go forth, forth.”_ He repeated what she had told them. “Why does it say _forth_ twice?”

 

“To make it rhyme?” Arthur suggested as he stepped out of the circle again.

 

Merlin stayed in and turned around on the spot. One, two, three . . . There were twelve rocks. “Twelve,” he said.

 

“What?”

 

“There are twelve rocks here.”

 

Arthur nodded. He walked around the entire circle and stopped on the same spot, in front of Merlin. “It looks like a clock,” he uttered as he looked around. “But the stones aren’t numbered.”

 

“This couldn’t have served as a giant clock,” Merlin told him as he stepped out of the circle, touching one of the stones and feeling its magic. Then he looked into the circle again and shrugged. “There’s nothing in the middle. For a clock to work, there has to be something in the middle of the circle to cast a shadow.”

 

“Maybe they did it with magic,” Arthur raised his eyebrows.

 

Merlin just rolled his eyes. He felt much better now that they actually found something. “Go _forth, forth,”_ he said again and walked slowly around the circle. He stopped on the opposite side of where Arthur was standing and touched the stone that pointed North.

 

“From where we started walking, this stone would be number twelve and you’d be near number six.”

 

Arthur frowned. “I thought you said this couldn’t have been a clock.”

 

Merlin shrugged. “But if you were a kid and found a giant circle of stones, wouldn’t you count them?” The old woman must have been here when she was a child, why else would she tell them that she used to go play here?

 

Arthur considered this. “One of the rocks has to point us in the direction of the castle, but which one?”

 

Merlin thought about this. There were twelve stones, so there were twelve directions. If the old woman really chose one stone that led to the castle, the number would have been in the rhyme . . . Or was it?

 

“Number four!” Merlin called at Arthur. “It’s number four!”

 

Arthur frowned at him. “Why the hell would it be four?”

 

“Because the woman told us!” Merlin grinned at him as he walked back to Arthur and stopped at the stone number four, if he thought about the circle as a clock. Arthur came closer to him and he looked very puzzled. “Go forth, forth isn’t go forth twice, but go forth and then _fourth_ as in the number four.”

 

Arthur’s eyes widened as he understood. “Do you think that’s possible?”

 

Merlin nodded. “It means we need to go forth, behind the fourth big rock. It makes sense!”

 

The smile Arthur gave Merlin was blinding. “Merlin, you’re a genius!”

 

Merlin couldn’t stop smiling about this. “I don’t hear that often,” he said.

 

Arthur just shook his head and walked closer to him, patting his uninjured shoulder. Then he looked up at the huge stone and away from it, into the far distance where there were only hills. His smile faded.

 

“But this can’t lead to a castle,” he said. Merlin followed his gaze and frowned. Arthur was right. “There are only more hills and until the borders of Mercia, there is nothing. There can’t be a hidden castle, we would have seen it from here.”

 

“Maybe they were too young to figure out twelve stones means it looks like a clock.” He mused. He had to be right about the number, this _had_ to work.

 

“Maybe it’s a different stone, then.” Arthur turned back to the circle. “They would have started to count from the first one they saw.”

 

“Then that’s rock number six,” Merlin walked over to the stone that was the nearest to the forest they had come out of. Then he walked back to Arthur and counted to four out loud. “ . . . Four,” he ended up standing in front of stone number three (according to the clock).

 

Arthur walked over to him and together they looked into the distance, frowns on their faces. “This is just closer to Mercia.”

 

“Then it must be the other side,” Merlin said. This was their last chance, it _had_ to work.

 

Arthur nodded and they walked back to the stone number six. There they started counting the stones while walking around the circle to their left, until they stopped at stone number nine (according to the clock). It led to a forest and somewhere behind the Vale of Denaria.

 

“This must be it,” Arthur looked at Merlin. “It’s the only direction that leads to a forest, where the castle wouldn’t have been exposed and really would have been hidden.”

 

“Then we need to go there,” Merlin nodded. He looked up at the sky - the sun was already on its way down behind the hills. They still had a few hours of sunlight, but not too long. The sun usually set early in this time of the year.

 

They both took a deep breath and prayed for this to work. Then they once again set off, this time hopefully finding the castle and the knowledge hidden inside.

 

 

 

They walked and walked, side by side, entering another forest and eventually finding the Vale of Denaria. They didn’t enter the vale, but they walked alongside it and continued where the stone must have been pointing to. Somewhere in the direction of North-West.

 

The forest was more and more dense and walking quickly became difficult. They didn’t give up though, they couldn’t. The fact that it was more difficult only made it more possible that the castle was hidden somewhere around them.

 

After another hour of endless walking, the sun began to set. It wasn’t dark yet, but Merlin knew they didn’t have long until it would be. And if they couldn’t find the castle in time, they would have to find shelter and sleep in the forest.

 

As if the forest wasn’t scary enough in sunlight, they’d have to stay there in the dark an entire night. Merlin really didn’t want it to come to that.

 

With every step, Merlin felt he was becoming more and more tired, hungry and thirsty.

 

When walking proved to be difficult among so many thin trees, Arthur finally stopped and turned to face Merlin. He must have seen how tired Merlin was because his expression turned from frustrated to soft.

 

“Maybe we should settle down for the night,” he offered, but Merlin was already shaking his head.

 

“No, we can’t give up, we’re close, I know it.” Merlin could almost feel it, the _magic._

 

“Alright,” Arthur nodded. He didn’t start walking again though, instead he came closer to Merlin and gently took off his backpack, putting it on his own back instead.

 

“Thanks,” Merlin managed a smile, which turned into a yawn.

 

Arthur was frowning. “Just a little while longer, and then we’ll have to get some sleep.”

 

“Yes, sire,” Merlin nodded jokingly. Then he sighed. “Let’s walk faster then, we need to find it.”

 

Arthur followed Merlin as he took the lead and they started walking again. Merlin licked his lips and thought about asking Arthur for water from the waterskin, but then he realized it was empty. When they didn’t have much food left, they at least tried to drink regularly, but now they didn’t have any water at all.

 

But that was fine. The castle had to have a water supply, Merlin reassured himself.

 

They’d seen a water stream inside the vale of Denaria, but they didn’t climb down the steep rock to refill the waterskin. The stream had to lead somewhere, and hopefully there would be no rock to climb.

 

They were in luck.

 

After ten more minutes of walking, when Merlin thought maybe he should listen to Arthur and prepare for the night, he heard something familiar. Besides the sounds of the forest and their own, he heard a flowing water.

 

“Shh,” he stopped.

 

“What?”

 

“I think I hear water,” Merlin turned to Arthur and smiled at him. Arthur was frowning as he tried to listen, but then he smiled as well.

 

“It’s coming from there,” Arthur pointed in front of them, slightly to their right. There wasn’t much to see, there were trees all around them, but they could follow the sound. It wasn’t against the direction of where the rock had pointed them to either, so they started walking faster, trying to find the water stream.

 

“It must be the same stream from the Vale of Denaria,” Merlin said as they walked together, moving some of the long, thin and bendable trees and branches away from them.

 

“It must be where Sigan got his water from,” Arthur agreed with him.

 

The sound was getting louder and louder until they finally saw less trees in front of them. They continued walking and didn’t stop until they were standing in front of the stream of water. It was around two metres wide, not nearly a river yet, but there was definitely enough water to fill the waterskin.

 

Arthur took off the backpack and found the waterskin, kneeling down in front of the water. Merlin did the same and washed his face. The water was really cold, but it wasn’t uncomfortable because of the cold weather. Not being thirsty anymore was much better than feeling cold.

 

Merlin drank from his palms as Arthur filled the waterskin and then drank from the stream too.

 

“This feels so good,” Arthur smiled and splashed Merlin with some water. Merlin pursed his lips as he looked at him, but didn’t splash him. Instead he washed his face again and enjoyed the moment.

 

“We need to follow the stream and it will lead us straight to the castle,” Arthur said as he stood up again and put the waterskin into the backpack, which he then put on his back again.

 

Merlin nodded and washed his hands, standing up too.

 

They started following the stream of water, against the direction in which the water was flowing. Merlin felt relieved, excited, almost _recharged_ with new-found energy.

 

They were so close to the castle that he didn’t know whether to be happy or start worrying about the spell. Would they find it? It must have been a big castle. Would the spell work at all?

 

Merlin chased those worries out of his mind as he continued leading the way.

 

They were close, he _knew_ it. He could _feel_ it. The castle must have still been full of magic. And that was a good thing.

 

Merlin felt like that increased their chance of finding the right spell.

 

And sure enough, a couple of minutes later, the trees around them started to disappear until they arrived at the edge of the forest. There was a little meadow, the stream of water on their left, and in front of them stood a castle.

 

Well, not really a castle anymore.

 

It was a ruin. It seemed to have fallen into the ground at some point, maybe there was an earthquake? Merlin had never heard of an earthquake in Camelot, but that’s what it looked like. The castle was barely two floors high and was made of stone. It seemed to have been built _into_ the hill that was right next to it, and there seemed to have been no windows.

 

And a bit of the castle must have also fallen off because there were large pieces of wall on the ground. When Merlin looked up, he couldn’t see where it had fallen off, so maybe there was a balcony, or chimney, or a small room that collapsed.

 

Nevertheless, Merlin was happy.

 

“We’re here,” he breathed out. He couldn’t take his eyes off of that strange building. “We’ve found it.”

 

“We have,” Arthur smiled as he gently punched Merlin into his uninjured shoulder.

 

Merlin frowned slightly, but he kept the smile.

 

On their left, they could see the sun setting. The last rays of the sun were illuminating the top of the castle and the tops of the trees all around them. Together with all the magic still hanging in the air from Sigan, it made the atmosphere a little eerie.

 

Merlin took the first step closer to the castle and Arthur joined him. When they got closer though, their smiles disappeared.

 

There was something _white_ sticking out from underneath the stones that have fallen off the castle. It looked like a white branch, or- it was a _bone._ Merlin frowned slightly. Someone must have been here before, but the bone was so small, it couldn’t have been anyone bigger than a-

 

“A child,” Arthur finished Merlin’s thoughts as he walked closer towards it. That was definitely a skeleton of a child. “Do you think . . . “ Arthur looked up at him as he knelt down next to the stones.

 

Merlin knew what he was asking. They now knew that the old woman used to play around here, and maybe this was the reason she stopped and called the castle _terrible._

 

Merlin only nodded at Arthur and then swallowed, looking around. They couldn’t stay there for much longer, it was getting too dark. Arthur turned back to the skeleton with a sad frown on his face. Then he nodded as well and joined Merlin as they looked around the stones and the front wall of the castle.

 

“There’s no door,” Merlin pointed out after a while.

 

“Maybe the opening is on the other side,” Arthur offered.

 

They split up then and each of them walked around the castle from a different side. Merlin walked right, while Arthur walked left. They met on the other side, but neither of them had found any door. Maybe it was just lost behind the stones and the skeleton. But that meant the door was blocked and there was no way inside.

 

“This looks more and more like some sort of a secret bunker instead of a castle,” Merlin mumbled as he knocked the stone wall. He was pretty sure there were only more stones behind it and no opening.

 

“He didn’t want anyone to discover this probably,” Arthur said. “He’s dedicated his life to cheating death, hasn’t he? He must have protected this place somehow.”

 

Merlin nodded. Arthur was right. They found the castle, but getting inside would not be easy.

 

He looked at the sunset. The sky was deep purple now with the sun and the clouds around it gold. He yawned again and then shook his head.

 

They were so close, they couldn’t give up _now._

 

“I think we should get some rest now,” Arthur sighed. Merlin turned to him.

 

“What? We can’t stop now, we’re so close!”

 

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur sighed again. “We can’t find a door, we need to spend the night here and continue in the morning. You know it’s the best thing to do right now.”

 

Merlin knew Arthur was right. But he didn’t want to just stop now. He put his hand on the stone wall again and closed his eyes.

 

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked, his eyebrow raised.

 

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted and put his hand down. The magic in this place was strong, but that wouldn’t help him. “You’re right,” he turned to him and sighed. It was getting dark fast now and at least here, they were protected.

 

No one would find them here.

 

“I don’t hear that often,” Arthur teased, but then yawned himself.

 

They both looked around to decide where to lie down. There really wasn’t much to do now, they didn’t have any blankets, so it didn’t really matter where exactly they would stay. Somewhere close to the wall, probably.

 

They found a place where the wall of the castle met the high hill and sat down, leaning against the wall. Arthur took off Merlin’s backpack and put it in between them. They were facing North again, and in the dark it was starting to get cold when they weren’t moving.

 

Merlin took the backpack and put it next to him, slowly but surely moving closer to Arthur. It wasn’t really about Arthur now, it was about _warmth._ He wasn’t dressed for the cold and now that the sun was hidden and the night arrived, he felt colder than before when they kept walking.

 

He felt Arthur’s eyes on him, but he didn’t mind. And neither did Arthur when he scooted a tiny bit closer to Merlin.

 

“Thank you,” Merlin thanked him.

 

“What for?” Arthur asked. Merlin could hear the confusion in his voice, but also how tired he was, just like him.

 

“For following me here when you didn’t have to. I still think you should return to Camelot in case this doesn’t work out-”

 

“Merlin-”

 

“You need to become the king, but I know there’s no point in trying to persuade you. You’re too stubborn.”

 

He heard Arthur sigh and smiled.

 

“And thanks for keeping my backpack. It means a lot to me.” Merlin added. He took the backpack and slowly opened it. There were four pieces of dried meat, the waterskin, his spell book and another thing hidden in a little bag.

 

Merlin carefully took the bag out and held it in his hands for a moment. Was this the right time to talk about this? Or wasn’t it?

 

Arthur kept watching him curiously, Merlin was sure of it even if he couldn’t see him.

 

Then he sighed and finally opened the little bag. Inside, there was a little wooden carved dragon.

 

“I was wondering what that was,” Arthur said.

 

Merlin nodded. He felt tears in his eyes, but he willed them away and took a deep breath. His father died months ago, but it was still so hard to even think about it.

 

“My father gave this to me,” he said after a while. His voice was weak, he knew that.

 

“I thought you said you never knew him and only had a faded memory,” Arthur frowned. Merlin nodded.

 

“That was until . . . until Kilgharrah attacked Camelot.” He swallowed.

 

He knew Arthur had many questions, but he thought that now, it was time for this one.

 

“What happened?”

 

“I finally met him,” Merlin smiled briefly. “It’s how I became the last Dragonlord,” he added. He knew that now Arthur at least had an inkling of what this meant. “His name was Balinor.”

 

Merlin brushed away his tears as he held the wooden dragon in his palms. He still remembered the morning he woke up to find this little toy in front of him. His father must have spent a long time making it after Merlin had fallen asleep.

 

“Merlin,” he heard Arthur’s voice. He was quiet too. “I’m so sorry,”

 

“It’s not your fault, you don’t have to be sorry,” Merlin told him as he sniffled.

 

“I know, but I told you that no men were worth your tears,” Arthur said. “I shouldn’t have told you that, if I had known-”

 

“It wouldn’t have changed anything, Arthur,” Merlin finally looked at him, his eyes glassy. He hadn’t realized how close Arthur was. They were sitting next to each other, their shoulders touching. “At least . . . at least I met him before he . . . “

 

Arthur nodded and Merlin looked away again. He brushed his thumb over the wooden surface of the dragon and smiled. “I thought you should know.”

 

“Thank you for telling me this.”

 

Merlin has probably never heard Arthur say thank you. He was glad. He didn’t know where they were now with their relationship, whether it was still broken or repairing or with how Arthur was looking at him already back to normal.

 

It wasn’t the same as before. There was something different and there always would be. And Merlin didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Back in Camelot, he’s always felt safe with Arthur, but he could never tell him the truth. Now, Arthur was acting different around him because he knew he had magic. But there was this new _openness_ that has never been there before.

 

Merlin knew that Arthur wanted to hear as much as he could about this _newly discovered_ side of Merlin. But apart from before, now Merlin didn’t mind telling Arthur. Nothing could be worse than his reaction to him having magic or him having released the dragon.

 

Arthur was accepting after everything that’s happened. He was learning this new aspect of Merlin and probably for the first time in his entire life, he had an open mind about it.

 

He didn’t want to lose Merlin as much as Merlin didn’t want to lose him.

 

And Merlin felt warm inside when he realized this.

 

He turned to look at Arthur again. Their eyes locked, and Merlin looked away again after a moment, deep blush spreading across his cheeks.

 

Arthur looked . . . so _kind._

 

Merlin didn’t deserve that, but he accepted it for now. He was tired. But he still didn’t think he could fall asleep.

 

“Do you . . . “ He cleared his throat and put his little dragon back into the bag. “Do you want to see something?” He asked carefully. There was one more thing in his backpack that he wanted Arthur to see, but he wasn’t sure if Arthur was ready for it.

 

“ _Don’t do that_ ,” was the first thing Arthur had told him when he used magic in front of him for the first time. When it happened again and Merlin teleported them, or when Merlin put out the fire in the fireplace, or when he summoned Kilgharrah . . . Arthur didn’t say anything.

 

Maybe he was ready.

 

“What is it?” Arthur asked. Merlin nodded and put the bag with the dragon back into his backpack. Then he slowly pulled out his spell book. It was thick and very old, filled with old papers with notes from him and Gaius, with illustrations on nearly every page.

 

It was one of the most valuable things among Merlin’s possessions.

 

He carefully looked at Arthur and he saw that brief hesitation in his eyes. But then it disappeared and was replaced with acceptance. Arthur nodded.

 

“Is that your book of magic?”

 

“Yeah,” Merlin nodded. “It’s the first thing Gaius gave me in Camelot when I arrived there. It used to be his.”

 

Merlin opened the book, only to realize that in the dark they couldn’t see anything. He glanced at Arthur again, hesitating for a moment, before he slowly reached out his hand and whispered a spell. “ _Leoht.”_

 

A beautiful orb of gentle blue light moving inside it appeared in front of them. It illuminated enough for them to see the pages of the book and to not cause any attention by animals that could have been in the forest. Merlin smiled when he saw the light and realized that Arthur didn’t react in a negative way upon seeing him use magic.

 

Instead, Arthur breathed out, “It was you.”

 

Merlin turned to him. “Yeah, I just created a light orb.”

 

“No, I mean,” for some reason, Arthur seemed confused. As if he had realized something. “It was you. In the cave. Almost three years ago.”

 

“What?” Now Merlin was confused as well.

 

But Arthur was smiling. “When you drank the poison for me, Gaius told me there was only one way to save you. I had to bring the Mortaeus flower from the caves in the forest of Balor.”

 

“I know,” Merlin nodded. He remembered how touched he felt when Arthur was willing to die only to save him, a poor servant. He had thanked him for that.

 

“I didn’t tell you, but . . . when I was trapped in the cave and losing my hope, suddenly a strange orb of light appeared. It provided light for me and guided me out of the cave to safety.” Arthur looked at the light floating above Merlin’s palm. “It looked exactly like this.”

 

Merlin looked at the orb and then back at Arthur. “I . . . I don’t remember doing this, but Gaius told me I had used magic while I was unconscious.”

 

“You saved my life even when you didn’t know about it,” Arthur mused. Merlin smiled at him. “Thank you.”

 

“Wow, you’re thanking me rather often these days,” Merlin chuckled, but blushed when he looked away and at the book in his other hand.

 

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Arthur replied. “And show me the book.”

 

Merlin placed the book on his and Arthur’s thighs that were touching, and opened it. Together, they flipped through one page after another. “These are the first spells that I learned in Camelot and used. I used this one to enchant the snakes on Sir Valiant’s shield,” Merlin commented on almost every page. “And this one to defeat the Griffin together with Lancelot.”

 

“Wait, together?” Arthur frowned at him.

 

He knew this was coming. He sighed and nodded. “Lancelot knows about my magic.”

 

That hurt in Arthur’s face was clear. “You told Lancelot and not me?”

 

Merlin was already shaking his head. “I didn’t tell him! I didn’t want him to know, but . . . He saw me. I wasn’t careful enough.”

 

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Well, that I can believe.” He sighed. “If I had seen you use magic, I would have realized it.”

 

Merlin pursed his lips. “You did see me use magic.”

 

Arthur looked at him, confused again. “What? When?”

 

“When we were defending Ealdor, that was me who created the whirlwind.”

 

Arthur’s eyes softened again. “That was you?” He must have remembered that Will, Merlin’s best friend died that day. “So your friend William-”

 

Merlin was already shaking his head. “He sacrificed himself for me. He told you he had magic because he wanted to protect me and he knew you couldn’t have done anything to him. It was . . . It was too late for him.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said.

 

Merlin nodded. “It happened a long time ago.”

 

He looked up into the sky. It was too dark now. The purple had faded away into dark black and the sun was long gone. The moon wasn’t in the sky yet and the sky was only dotted by dozens of stars.

 

Merlin smiled. He didn’t want to think about the negative side of his past. His father, Will . . . He didn’t want to think about that.

 

The only thing he wanted to think about now was the way his and Arthur’s shoulders and thighs were touching. The way Arthur inched a little closer to him to see the pages of his spell book better. The look on Arthur’s face when he was curious.

 

The way this place and the stars above his head made him feel. They were barely illuminated and sitting so close to each other. Merlin would even dare to call this _intimate._

 

He looked at Arthur again, a little smile on his face. Arthur was looking back at him.

 

The spark in his eyes . . . That smile . . . It was back. The way Arthur used to look at him when he thought Merlin couldn’t see him. It was _back_.

 

And yet again, Merlin didn’t know what to think. Did Arthur admire him? Did he value him as a friend? Because all Merlin could think about when he looked into his deep blue eyes was how much he was in love with this ridiculous dollophead.

 

He glanced down at his lips and then quickly turned away, staring at the sky again.

 

It was so hard to keep resisting. He’s been in love with him for so long and this moment was playing with Merlin’s heart. His heart that was repeating: _kiss him kiss him kiss him_ , but his brain kept reminding him of their situation and that Arthur didn’t feel the same.

 

Probably.

 

With how Arthur kept looking at him . . . It was hard to think about all this.

 

“Look!” Arthur smiled. “A shooting star.”

 

It was gone in a fraction of a second, but Merlin saw it. “I saw it,” he nodded.

 

“Make a wish,” Arthur said. Merlin never took Arthur for a believer, but he guessed he was just tired.

 

Merlin knew what he wished. Right at this moment, he wished only for one thing. For Arthur to kiss him. It was a foolish wish, he knew that. He should have wished for this entire situation and problem to be solved, to have his old life back, but when he looked at Arthur . . . He realized that he no longer cared about that. He’d be fine. As long as he stayed with Arthur, he’d have his _home_.

 

“What did you wish?” Arthur asked him as he looked into his eyes.

 

Merlin smiled slightly. “You know it won’t come true if I say it out loud.”

 

He blushed again as he thought about his wish and what his heart kept telling him. _Kiss him._ It was the only thing he could think about and Arthur wasn’t helping.

 

The prince chuckled as he looked at Merlin. Merlin didn’t look away, and neither did Arthur. Their eyes locked and smiles slowly faded. Merlin licked his lips and noticed that Arthur followed the movement with his eyes.

 

They were so close. It seemed . . . Almost possible that . . . That his wish . . .

 

Arthur looked into his eyes, his breath becoming slightly faster. Merlin’s heart was racing in his chest. He didn’t know what to think. He looked into Arthur’s eyes and then glanced at his lips again.

 

In that moment, Arthur moved a tiny bit closer, but Merlin saw it. They were closer now. His breath quickened as he realized what was happening. They’ve been staring at each other for far too long now to be _just friends._ Merlin leaned closer and Arthur took that as a cue.

 

He slowly leaned all the way in and with that, Merlin’s wish came true.

 

Their lips _touched_.

 

It was soft, hesitant, slow. They didn’t rush. They moved their lips just slightly, trying this out, not really sure what was happening between them just yet. They closed their eyes and let that thing just _happen._

 

Arthur slowly moved his hand and placed it on Merlin’s cheek, and then their lips disconnected and Merlin gasped. His lips were trembling and his breath was shuddering. His eyes were still closed and they didn’t move away from each other at all.

 

Their noses were still touching.

 

Merlin didn’t know what to do, so he just breathed. They breathed together, only now Merlin noticing his hand had found its way to Arthur’s chest.

 

When Merlin opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that it was dark. His light orb had faded. Arthur opened his eyes a second after that. They stared at each other in the dark, both wide-eyed. What just happened? What did they do? Was this really, truly happening?

 

Could it have been that Merlin’s feelings were not unrequited? That he was wrong about everything?

 

Could Arthur . . . _love_ him too?

 

And then . . . Arthur smiled. It was a little smile, but Merlin could see it. And he couldn’t help but return that smile, a silent breathless chuckle suddenly escaping him. Arthur laughed silently and the next thing Merlin knew, they both leaned in again, their lips meeting one more time.

 

This time it was more desperate, passionate, _happy._

 

Merlin turned his entire body slightly closer to Arthur, just as Arthur did and now they could use both their hands to _touch._ To touch as much as they could, as much as they had both wanted to for such a long time.

 

Merlin’s hand found its place in Arthur’s blond hair, the other around his neck. Arthur’s hands were around Merlin’s waist and on his cheek. Merlin kissed him with everything he had and had been hiding, and Arthur was giving him everything he had in return. The amount of space between them could no longer be measured, it was nonexistent. They couldn’t have possibly been closer to each other.

 

Suddenly, there was a crack. Merlin didn’t pay much attention to it as he leaned into Arthur harder. Arthur kissed him and kissed him and kissed him and neither of them could get enough.

 

Then suddenly the crack was there again, but louder. Merlin frowned into the kiss, but didn’t stop. He’d been waiting for this for too long, nothing could stop him from doing _this._ Doing this _with_ Arthur.

 

But the sound returned and this time brought destruction with it. The wall beneath their backs suddenly fell _inside_ and disappeared in the dark. They both gasped as they were pulled away from each other.

 

Merlin managed to grab the strap of his backpack _just in time_ before they both disappeared into a deep dark hole, into the castle.

 

 

  

 

 

The first thing Kaunos did when he returned to his chambers after he had spoken to Uther and was given his permission to ride out and find Emrys and Arthur, was start pacing. He had to have a plan for how to do this. How to find Emrys.

 

He was so close to ending it all, and then the prince had to run into the flames and destroy everything. The only thing it did, besides letting them escape and making Uther believe his son was enchanted (which was ridiculous) was assure Kaunos that Merlin really was Emrys and that Prince Arthur was supposed to be the Once and Future King.

 

There was no doubt about it now. Not only did the handcuffs hurt the sorcerer, but what prince would be willing to run into a fire for a mere servant?

 

No, there was more going on. The books spoke of a prophecy of Emrys and The Once and Future King who worked together for a better future and were practically inseparable.

 

That was the definition of Merlin and the prince. Inseparable.

 

Kaunos stopped pacing and closed his eyes. The first thing he needed to figure out was where to find them. He was sure they were still together, either running away from Camelot or trying to find a way to return without consequences.

 

Kaunos had never seen a sorcerer escape and disappear like that. The way Merlin did it had to be with the help of very strong magic. They disappeared in a wind after all, but it wasn’t strong enough to blow out the fire, it only made it more difficult for the knights to put out.

 

It did achieve something else though. The magical handcuffs were destroyed now. After the fire was killed and everything calmed down, Kaunos had walked to the destroyed pyre only to find a piece of metal on the stone ground. The handcuffs were no use to him anymore, and therefore he had to be prepared for Emrys differently.

 

He stood up and went to fetch a map of Camelot that he had hidden in between his books on the shelf. He returned to the table and spread the map across it, looking carefully for where Merlin and Arthur could have possibly appeared. They couldn’t have travelled far.

 

Kaunos had never seen a sorcerer escape in a whirlwind, although he’d read about it. But again, this was Emrys he was talking about, the most powerful sorcerer to ever be. There was no telling where they were now.

 

But knowing how far such a spell could take a sorcerer wasn’t the only thing that Kaunos knew. He’d learned a few tricks while living with the druids, and although he did not have magic, he knew what to do to make it work.

 

And desperate times called for desperate measures.

 

The witchfinder took his money and went to the market to buy a few specific herbs. Once he had them, he returned to his chambers and prepared everything on the table. Then he secretly entered the prince’s chambers and examined his pillows, successfully finding a single blond hair. When he returned to his table, he had everything he needed to find the sorcerer and the prince.

 

He mixed the herbs together in water in his goblet and then added Arthur’s hair. He stirred it and heated it up above a torch that he found in the hall and once it was done, he poured the substance on the map on his table.

 

“Arthur Pendragon,” he whispered as the mixture slowly started to move, “and Emrys,” the potion he’d made formed a small circle above the Vale of Denaria, North-East from Camelot.

 

“I’m coming.”

 

 

 

 

 

At first Arthur’s brain seemed to have frozen when he started kissing Merlin. His mind was completely blank and he wasn’t able to form a single coherent thought. But now that Merlin was kissing him back and his hand was on Merlin’s soft cheek, he was _screaming_ inside.

 

He was kissing Merlin.

 

Merlin was _kissing_ him.

 

_He was kissing Merlin, his bloody manservant._

 

_OH GOD_

 

Everything stopped when he heard the loud crack though. His back suddenly lost support and he tried to pull Merlin closer to him because suddenly they were falling down and everything was dark.

 

Luckily, it wasn’t a long fall. It was over in a second and now they were both lying next to or on a bunch of bricks and stones in complete darkness.

 

Fear gripped his heart.

 

“Merlin?” he gasped into the silence. “Merlin are you alright?”

 

Merlin answered him with a groan. Arthur quickly realized that he must have been only bruised, badly, but okay. Merlin’s groan sounded more serious though. “Merlin?”

 

“I’m . . . I’m _alive._ ” It wasn’t an _okay_ but he was alive. Good.

 

“Thank god,” Arthur sighed as he carefully tried to sit down. There was something that was not made of stones under his arm and when he touched it, he realized it was Merlin’s book, now closed with the fall. He wouldn’t be too happy about that, it must have been old.

 

But Merlin’s life was much more important now.

 

“Where are you?” Arthur asked.

 

Suddenly, that same blue orb of light appeared above Merlin’s face and he could see it slowly rising above both of them. Now he could see him. But his heart was still racing.

 

There were stones and old bricks around them, one of which was on Merlin’s leg. And even with only the faint light, it didn’t look good.

 

“You’re hurt,” Arthur said as he slowly stood up and grabbed the book, coming closer to Merlin. Merlin closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Then he propped himself up on his elbows and Arthur put down the book so that he could help him get into a sitting position.

 

With Arthur’s help, Merlin managed to sit up and take a look at his leg. There was a brick on his shin. It wasn’t big, but Arthur could tell it must hurt.

 

Merlin stared at the injury and then said, “It’s not serious,” as if he was trying to convince himself. But Arthur wasn’t buying it, he’s seen many injuries over the years, and although this was wasn’t fatal, it wasn’t merely a scratch either.

 

“Merlin, you’re _hurt_ ,” Arthur repeated. He saw Merlin only swallow and continue staring at the stone. Then he blinked and looked around.

 

“My backpack?”

 

Arthur looked around together with Merlin, and they found it behind

 

Merlin’s head. Arthur grabbed it and put the book inside to keep Merlin’s possessions safe. Then he moved closer to Merlin’s leg and examined the wound.

 

“It’s bleeding,” Arthur realized out loud. “You’ll have to use magic to heal it.”

 

Merlin looked worried. “I’m not good with healing spells,” he raised his eyebrows.

 

“You healed my arm, you can do this,” Arthur encouraged him.

 

Merlin bit down his lower lip and then nodded. Arthur slowly took hold of the stone and-

 

“Ah!”

 

“Sorry.”

 

-and removed it from Merlin’s leg. Now he had a much better view of the injury. The orb of light flew closer to him to illuminate Merlin’s leg, and Arthur inspected it.

 

“The bone’s not broken,” he informed Merlin. “You’ll live.”

 

Merlin sighed and let his head fall backwards. Then he took a deep breath and looked at Arthur again. Arthur moved closer to him to help him sit up straighter as Merlin reached out his hand and hovered with his palm above his injured leg.

 

“Um,” he cleared his throat, “ _Ge hailige,_ ” Merlin whispered and Arthur watched as his eyes shone with gold and then faded away into the darkness. He looked down at the wound, but it looked the same. He turned back to Merlin, who seemed distressed. “ _Ge hailige!_ ” he repeated, but it didn’t work. “ _Gestepe hole! Þurhhæle._ ” Merlin tried again. And then, “ _Licsar gestapol nu!_ ”

 

Nothing worked.

 

For such a powerful sorcerer, Merlin really sucked at healing magic.

 

“It’s not working, I can’t do it,” Merlin sighed.

 

But Arthur wouldn’t let Merlin give up. “Are these all the healing spells that you know?”

 

“I know one more,” Merlin sighed and placed his hand above the wound again. Arthur covered his hand with his and squeezed gently, trying to give Merlin support. Merlin looked at him and then blinked, clearing his throat. “Um, _Purhhaele dolgbenn!_ ” His eyes flashed gold, but when Arthur put away his and Merlin’s hand, the wound was still there.

 

Merlin groaned.

 

And Arthur didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t use Merlin’s dirty neckerchief or the rest of his tunic for such an open wound, it would get infected. It wasn’t bleeding much anymore, but he still couldn’t risk it. And there were no clean bandages nearby like there were in the tavern. The only bandages Merlin still wore on his shoulder and wrists were already dirty too and he couldn’t use them.

 

“Maybe . . . maybe there are more healing spells in your spell book,” Arthur offered and moved to open the backpack, but Merlin shook his head and stopped him.

 

“No, these are all that I know from that book.”

 

Arthur sighed.

 

“But maybe,” Merlin mused, “maybe we find some healing spells in Sigan’s work. They should be more powerful.”

 

“That’s not a horrible idea,” Arthur briefly closed his eyes in relief. At least he had hope now. “But we’ll have to move, I’m not leaving you down here in the dark, who knows what’s hiding here.”

 

Merlin nodded. “We’ll have to find some stairs.” He added as he used his hand and a flash of gold eyes to make the orb of light slightly bigger. He reached his other hand for Arthur and after Arthur put the backpack on his back, he took it and in one quick movement pulled Merlin up.

 

Merlin immediately let half of his weight fall on Arthur, but Arthur was prepared for that and supported him. He threw one of Merlin’s arms around his shoulders and looked around. Merlin jumped on his one uninjured leg to turn around to where Arthur was looking and to gain better stability.

 

He guided the orb of light farther away from them to see the corners of the dark room. As they found themselves in darkness again, the light allowed them to see that in front of them there was a wall. The light followed the wall and they followed the light with their eyes. The light revealed to them that they had landed in a room that was most likely a cellar.

 

There was an old broken chair as well as a few barrels just lying or standing around. Four unlit torches in each corner of the room, and only one entrance leading into more darkness.

 

Merlin looked at Arthur and Arthur nodded. “Let’s hope it leads somewhere better than here,” he said.

 

“Just . . . go slowly,” Merlin reminded him. Arthur rolled his eyes. Of course he was going to walk slowly, Merlin was _injured_.

 

They finally started moving. Arthur made short, slow steps as Merlin clung to him and jumped on his one leg next to him.

 

It was slow, but they made it to the opening and the light guided them inside, still providing light. They entered a hall that ended in stairs on the other side.

 

They started moving again, when suddenly Arthur stepped on something that moved down. All he heard was a _woosh_ sound of something flying through the air and Merlin’s cry of “ _Arthur!_ ”, and when he turned to look, he found an arrow floating in the air a few inches away from his face. His eyes were wide and Merlin’s eyes were gold. The gold faded and the arrow fell down on the stone ground.

 

Arthur’s heart raced in his chest when he realized he had almost died just then. If it wasn’t for Merlin he _would_ be dead. Probably many, many times.

 

“Thanks,” he muttered, still in shock.

 

“Just be careful where you step. This happened to someone in Camelot when they opened the tomb.”

 

They began walking again, and slowly and carefully made their way up the wide spiral stairs until they finally reached a room that looked to be in better shape than the room they had left.

 

There seemed to be tiny narrow holes in the walls that must have substituted for windows but were useless now in the night. At least they let in fresh air.

 

The light orb slowly circled the dust filled room and stopped above their heads in the centre.

 

There was an old table with a goblet filled with black raven quills. There were many faded papers and books lying on the table. Old locked drawers that only reminded Arthur of the frantic search for the key to the handcuffs. There were shelves around the room with little statues of birds, mainly ravens, and shelves filled with books.

 

They had found the room where Sigan used to work in secret.

 

“We need to find the healing spell,” Merlin muttered next to him. He sounded tired.

 

Arthur immediately started to move towards the table with books. “Sigan left this place unexpectedly, didn’t he?” He must have when he was sentenced to death. That would have left his work unfinished right there on the table.

 

“I’m not sure, they could have sentenced him to death in Camelot, in which case he would have left this place, not knowing what was about to happen.” Merlin replied quietly.

 

“Let’s just hope his work is on the table in these books and not anywhere else.” Arthur sighed as they slowly made their way towards the table and stopped. Arthur carefully sat Merlin down into Sigan’s old chair and hoped it wouldn’t break.

 

When it didn’t, he turned to the other side of the table and blew air on the books. Dust flew off them, but a lot of it still remained. Arthur just hoped the spells in these books were readable. He reached for the first of them and dusted it off with his palm to read the title.

 

“This looks like his diary,” he informed Merlin who had leaned against the dusty table to rest.

 

Arthur opened the book and carefully flipped through the pages. It was filled with sentences and pictures of Sigan’s findings of death, dying, souls, and jewels, but there were no healing spells. Arthur flipped to the end of the book and skimmed the pages.

 

“Wait,” Arthur stopped as his finger landed on a phrase he was familiar with. “He’s writing about us, the Once and Future King and Emrys.”

 

“Arthur,” Merlin moaned.

 

“Right,” Arthur set the book aside and left it open. Then he opened the second book and started flipping through the pages right away. It was filled with strange words written in red and gold ink. “This looks a bit like _your_ book.”

 

Merlin reached out his hand and Arthur moved the heavy book closer to him. Merlin looked at it and nodded, closing his eyes in concentration. “ _Onhríne achtung bregdan._ ”

 

The book magically opened and the pages started moving quickly while Merlin’s eyes moved under his eyelids. One page after another landed on the other side of the book until it all stopped on one specific page. “Here,” Merlin sighed.

 

Arthur figured that after this, nothing could surprise him anymore.

 

Merlin pointed at the spell written in gold ink and read it. Then he bent down to position his hand above his wound and whispered, “ _Purhhaele licsar min._ ”

 

When he opened his eyes again, Arthur could see the gold fading into blue and when he looked down at Merlin’s wound, he could still see the last bits of the wound and broken skin mending together. He’s never seen anything like it.

 

He was just glad that Merlin was alright again.

 

“It worked!” Arthur smiled at him.

 

Merlin returned the smile and used the spell to heal his shoulder and wrists and each time it worked like a miracle. Now all they had to do was find the spell for wiping memories and read a bit about themselves in the diary that Sigan wrote-

 

But when Arthur saw Merlin’s heavy eyelids, he knew that that had to wait. They’ve been on their legs the entire day with little to no food or water. They needed to rest now.

 

“Come on,” Arthur smiled at him. “Let’s hope there’s a comfortable bed here too.”

 

Merlin nodded as he stood up on his own, no longer needing Arthur’s help. “Let’s hope so, I miss my bed.”

 

Arthur chuckled and they left the room, walking to the only other door with stairs that led higher. The light guided them and they were careful to not step on any stones that activated traps. Luckily, Sigan probably didn’t have the nerve to deal with such hidden weapons on his way to bed, so they didn’t find any.

 

Instead, they found another room with tiny narrow windows. There were more shelves and books, a desk in the corner and a bed with black pillows and blanket in the middle. It was big enough for two people, but it was a single bed. And very dusty.

 

While Merlin held the light above Arthur’s head, Arthur moved to the bed and took hold of the blankets. He quickly lifted them into the air and let them fall down again, ridding them of as much dust as he could. The cloud of dust now filled half of the room, but eventually settled down on the ground. Merlin used his magic to rid the blanket and pillows of dust more effectively and yawned again when it was done.

 

Arthur yawned too and flipped both the pillows and the blanket. He felt weird when he realized he would be sleeping in the bed that Cornelius Sigan once slept in, but they didn’t have a choice. They both needed rest.

 

“I wish the windows were bigger,” Merlin sighed as he looked through one of them and finally saw a tiny bit of the moon.

 

He was right. The temperature outside was low, but here? The windows were so small that all the heat that was in the room with them stayed there. It wasn’t cold at all, almost quite the opposite in fact.

 

“I’m definitely getting rid of this,” Arthur pointed at his chainmail and his armour.

 

Merlin only nodded. Then he stepped closer to Arthur and helped him out of the metal plates on his chest and arms. He removed the belt, standing just a little too close to Arthur, just close enough for Arthur to be able to feel his breath. He shuddered at the sensation.

 

But soon it was gone as Merlin stepped aside and cleared his throat. “Thanks,” Arthur nodded and finally got himself out of the chainmail himself. That wasn’t hard. He then also removed the padded jacket that he wore under that and was now only left with his tunic and trousers. He wasn’t getting naked in such an old dirty bed that his enemy used to sleep in.

 

Arthur watched as Merlin removed his jacket, neckerchief and his tunic. He still had his other tunic underneath, even though it was a little torn from when Arthur used it to make Merlin’s first bandage.

 

Merlin caught Arthur staring and Arthur looked away.

 

It was back. Those glances. They’d always been there between them, quick, hesitant, secret . . . But they had been there. Until Merlin ran away and changed everything. But now? They were there again, and this time, Arthur knew what they meant.

 

That he was wrong and Merlin did return his feelings.

 

Why else would they have kissed like that?

 

It still made Arthur feel all funny inside when he thought about that. And how much he wanted it to happen again.

 

He removed his high boots and sat down on the bed. Merlin watched him as he also removed his boots and waited until Arthur moved to his side of the bed. Then Merlin got into the bed too, and they both just . . . sat there. Next to each other.

 

This was the first time they would sleep so close to one another. Almost touching. They would be _sharing_ a bed. Such things were unheard of between royals and their servants.

 

But Merlin wasn’t just Arthur’s servant, was he? He was his friend, his _love._ Yes, he did lie for a very long time, but it didn’t change how Arthur felt about him one bit. And just a few days ago, Arthur had been angry with himself because of that, but now he wasn’t anymore. He’d learned to accept it.

 

Eventually Merlin lay down and covered himself carefully with the blanket. Arthur let his head hit the pillow as well.

 

They lay there together in silence, their shoulders, hips and legs touching under the blanket. It was a new feeling for Arthur. Almost surreal. He’s never been this close to anyone in his entire life.

 

He opened his mouth to say good night, but instead of that, Merlin said something first.

 

“You kissed me,” he mumbled.

 

A warm smile replaced Arthur’s slightly awkward expression. “The way I remember it, you kissed _me._ ”

 

Merlin shook his head because that wasn’t the point. “ _We kissed._ ” He repeated with the same amount of amazement.

 

“We did.” Arthur confirmed. Because it did happen, right? This wasn’t just a dream.

 

“I didn’t know you . . . felt that way about me,” Merlin whispered into the dark. The orb of light has long since disappeared.

 

Arthur swallowed. He wasn’t good at talking about this. About anything that concerned his _feelings._ But for Merlin, he’d always make an exception.

 

“I have for a long time.”

 

Merlin was silent for a moment. “Me too.”

 

Arthur nodded, although Merlin couldn’t see it. Then he slowly moved his hand underneath the blanket and found Merlin’s hand. He . . . touched it. Hesitantly.

 

He heard Merlin swallow as he allowed him to take his hand. They entwined their fingers and Arthur’s heart jumped in his chest. He couldn’t feel happier.

 

Merlin brushed his thumb up and down Arthur’s palm and scooted a tiny bit closer to Arthur.

 

“Good night, Arthur,” he whispered.

 

“Good night, Merlin.”

 

They both closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep, still holding hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Merlin has never slept so soundly and comfortably. He dreamt of flying dragons and Arthur by his side, all their problems gone and only happiness. He was happy. He _is happy._

 

He slowly woke up to a touch. He didn’t open his eyes, he didn’t want to just yet. He wanted to just lie there in the sensation of Arthur’s thumb brushing up and down Merlin’s bare stomach.

 

Their hands were still entwined, but now Merlin was lying on his side and Arthur was lying behind him, his strong hand holding Merlin’s under Merlin’s tunic. He could feel Arthur’s breath on his neck and his eyes on his face.

 

He couldn’t help but smile.

 

It was warm there in between them. Their bodies were so close together, almost skin on skin, that Merlin almost thought he was still dreaming. He shuddered when he felt a slightly cold puff of air arrive from one of the tiny windows.

 

Arthur scooted closer to him and hugged him more tightly.

 

This wasn’t a dream.

 

This was reality, no matter how hard it was to believe it.

 

He felt Arthur’s hair behind him, and his chin close to his shoulder, his chest pressed against Merlin’s back.

 

Arthur’s hand moved a tiny bit underneath Merlin’s tunic and Merlin laughed softly. It tickled a bit, which triggered instant goosebumps.

 

“Good morning,” he heard Arthur whisper behind him.

 

Merlin never thought he’d hear him say that so _softly_. He usually just groaned when Merlin pulled back the curtains in his chambers, but then again, he’s never been together with Arthur in his bed when that happened.

 

“Good morning,” Merlin replied, finally opening his eyes.

 

The room in front of him was still dusty and mostly dark. Only a fraction of the light came in through the windows, making the dust in the air visible to them. Sigan must have relied on torches.

 

Merlin squeezed Arthur’s hand under his tunic and took a deep breath. He’s never felt better. All the horrors from his past had seemed to disappear as he was lying there with Arthur holding him.

 

After a moment, when Merlin felt more awake, he slowly turned around to face Arthur. He had to laugh when he saw him. His hair was tousled like never before and he still looked sleepy, but he had a smile on his face.

 

His smile turned to worry though. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, only making Merlin laugh again. “Is there something on my face?”

 

Merlin bit his lip to stifle his laughter. “I think there’s something missing from your face, actually.”

 

Arthur frowned. “What is it-”

 

But Merlin already leaned closer and kissed him. Arthur was surprised, but he kissed back eagerly, smiling into the kiss.

 

They did it again. They kissed. For the third time.

 

When they parted, Merlin was grinning. “I kissed you,” he told Arthur, who was grinning back.

 

“You did,” he leaned closer to Merlin again and kissed his lips softly. “And now I kissed you.”

 

“Do it again,” Merlin pleaded him and Arthur smirked at him, leaning harder into the kiss and then moving his lips to Merlin’s jaw.

 

Merlin was in heaven. He was. He must have died somewhere along the way, probably from exhaustion or starvation and now he was in heaven.

 

As Arthur kissed him and moved his arm to touch more of Merlin, his fingers brushed across the huge scar on Merlin’s chest. Arthur gasped into the kiss and stopped.

 

When they realized what happened, both of them stopped smiling.

 

“Sorry,” Arthur mumbled as he started moving his hand away, but Merlin stopped him with his hand over his.

 

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It doesn’t hurt.”

 

They were silent for a little while, Arthur’s palm across Merlin’s scar. Their eyes locked again and they seemed to have an entire conversation without a sound, just by looking at each other.

 

Merlin nodded slightly and swallowed.

 

It was time for the truth that he’d promised Arthur.

 

“It’s-”

 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Arthur shook his head. It was a sweet gesture from him, something that Merlin has never seen Arthur do before for anyone. He always wanted to know all the answers, but from this one sentence only, Merlin could hear how much Arthur actually cared.

 

Merlin smiled and squeezed Arthur’s hand again, his fingers falling in between Arthur’s. Arthur glanced down at his chest, where their hands were under Merlin’s tunic and squeezed back.

 

“I want to tell you.” Merlin nodded at him. “You deserve to know.”

 

Arthur only nodded, leaning a little closer to Merlin again. Then he kissed his lips as a thank you and looked into his eyes again.

 

Merlin took a deep breath and began. “It’s . . . it’s from Nimueh.” Merlin didn’t know whether Arthur remembered that name or not, but he didn’t say anything and let Merlin continue. “She was a powerful sorceress, a high priestess of the Old Religion. You’ve met her, twice.”

 

Arthur frowned at him in confusion.

 

“You wouldn’t remember her the first time. She disguised herself as a servant for King Bayard and changed his goblet that was meant for you for a poisoned one. Then she told me about it, and I drank from it.”

 

“She was after me?” Arthur asked.

 

Merlin shook his head. “No, she was after me because I had helped you defeat the Afanc that she had created to weaken Camelot.” Arthur nodded, and Merlin continued. “Then you met her when you went to the forest of Balor to find the Morteaus flower. Gaius told me that she had trapped you in the cave.”

 

Arthur nodded at that. “I remember her. She told me it was not my destiny to die at her hand and then she just left me there.”

 

“Well, that wasn’t the last thing she did. When you got hurt by the Questing Beast, I met her again. I tried everything I could, but you were dying,” Merlin’s heart filled with tears, but he willed them away. “And I came to the dragon, who told me to go to the Isle of the Blessed. That’s where she lived. She held the power of life and death and . . . And I was prepared to sacrifice my life to let you live.”

 

Arthur frowned at him. “That was . . . That’s when you came to me before you left. I didn’t know what came over you, you were acting so weird-”

 

“I was saying goodbye,” Merlin nodded at him. “I told you that I was happy to be your servant till the day I die, and that’s still true. I’d die for you, Arthur.”

 

Arthur squeezed his hand again and frowned at him, but with love in his eyes. “I’ll never let that happen. If you die . . . Then I have no reason to be alive.”

 

Merlin pursed his lips at that. He didn’t know what to say. The amount of sheer _affection_ he was receiving from Arthur was so unusual, but Merlin welcomed it.

 

Arthur loved him. He did.

 

Just as Merlin loved Arthur.

 

He nodded and continued. “But even though I made the decision, she held the power of life and death and decided that I couldn’t die for you. Our destiny was merely at the beginning, and so the next morning, I found . . . I found my mother at our doorstep. She was ill, almost dead.”

 

Arthur frowned at him in worry again.

 

“I wanted to go and change my life for hers, but Gaius got to the Isle first,” Merlin felt the hot tears in his eyes again and he brushed them away with his sleeve of his free hand. Arthur caught the remaining ones with his thumb. “When I arrived there, Gaius was almost already dead, and I didn’t know what to do, so I . . . I fought Nimueh.”

 

“Alone?” Arthur asked him in worry.

 

Merlin nodded. Then he moved his hand and let Arthur feel his scar on his chest. “She used a fireball against me and hit me.” Arthur gasped when he realized that scar was caused by fire - it was always fire. “But I managed to kill her. I used the lightning.”

 

“What?”

 

“I used the lightning,” Merlin repeated. “And it started raining. She died, and with her life gone, Gaius came back to life. Once again, the balance was restored to nature.”

 

Arthur frowned at him, even more confused. “What does that even mean?”

 

Merlin just shrugged. “I have no idea,” he replied and then thought about it again. “For a life to be saved, another life must be sacrificed. She lost her life and that meant that Gaius could live.”

 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Arthur told him. Then he leaned closer to him and kissed him again and Merlin closed his eyes, kissing back.

 

As they were kissing, Merlin’s stomach made an unhappy sound. He laughed into the kiss and so did Arthur.

 

“We don’t have much food left,” Merlin reminded him, but Arthur only nodded.

 

“We’ve got enough for now.”

 

They disentangled themselves from each other - legs, arms - and pulled back the blanket. Despite them trying to clean it the day before, it let out a huge cloud of dust.

 

Merlin quickly got out of bed, his leg not bothering him anymore, and Arthur did the same. They put on their boots and other clothes, and Merlin helped Arthur get into his chainmail and the armour.

 

When they were done, they ate together. Each of them ate one piece of dried meat, leaving them with two more spare pieces. They snapped the carrot in half and ate that too and finished with a gulp of water. Then they finally left the small bedroom and went back down the stairs into the room where they had found the table and books..

 

“We need to find the spell,” Merlin said as he went over to the table. There was the diary that Arthur had opened the day before and Merlin couldn’t resist but to read a bit from the opened page. Arthur came to stand behind him as Merlin read out loud.

 

“ _There will come a time of Emrys and the Once and Future King. The prophecies are true, I’ve seen the future, I’ve seen_ him _. The only one that can be more powerful than me._ ”

 

“Wow,” Arthur commented. “He doesn’t like you.”

 

“He _didn’t_ like me,” Merlin corrected him. He would never allow Sigan to return to haunt them.

 

Merlin moved his finger over the lines as he continued, “ _I can’t allow that. He can’t be defeated, but I can make him rule alongside me. Or take his power. I will be long gone when he sees the world for the first time, but I can never be defeated either. One day, I will return._

 

“ _First, I need to finish this and carve the jewel from the Crystal Cave.”_

 

“Hm,” Merlin shrugged. “I’ve never heard of a crystal cave,” he frowned.

 

“Does he say anything about me?” Arthur asked as he moved closer to the book and read from the page. “Emrys, power, souls, magic . . . Where’s the Once and Future King?”

 

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Wait,” then he concentrated on the book and repeated the spell from before. “ _Onhríne achtung bregdan_.” His eyes flashed gold and the book started moving. Then it stopped on one page and Merlin’s eyes turned blue again.

 

Arthur watched him and when Merlin finished, he looked at the book again and skimmed the pages. “Here?” he pointed at his name. “ _I still do not know what the real name of the Once and Future King is, but together with Emrys, he is to be undefeated as well. There will be a new kingdom for him to rule. Albion. But not if I can rule it with Emrys by my side and make him do as I wish.”_

 

With that the diary ended. It was the last page. Arthur turned it over and then again, but it really was the only mention of him.

 

“I hate this man more and more,” Arthur frowned.

 

“Come on, we need to find the spell.”

 

Arthur nodded and handed Merlin the book where they found the healing spell. Merlin used the same spell again and searched through the book, but when the book closed and he found nothing, his doubts appeared again.

 

“It’s got to be here somewhere,” Arthur assured him and touched his shoulder in support. Merlin nodded.

 

“There are more books here,” he said as he stood up. “And he was very powerful, he had to have more than one spell book.”

 

“Then let’s search for it,” Arthur turned around. There were many books on the shelves, and they had to have titles on their covers.

 

Merlin stood up and together they started going through the books. Mostly they were just about different herbs, or even about history. Many of them were about birds and ravens. They took every book that they couldn’t read the title of or that seemed to contain spells.

 

They put them all on the table and one by one, Merlin used the spell on each of them.

 

“ _Onhríne achtung bregdan,_ ” he whispered again and again. One by one, the books closed, having nothing in them that Merlin needed.

 

When the last one closed and they still had no results, Merlin started to panic. Maybe the spell wasn’t here, it was just a guess after all. No one knew if it was here. Maybe Cornelius never wrote it down and took the spell to his grave, which meant that Merlin would never return to Camelot and-

 

“Hey,” Arthur said softly and laid his hand on Merlin’s shoulder to calm him down. He must have seen how panicky Merlin was getting. Merlin put his hand over Arthur’s and closed his eyes. “It’s here,” Arthur assured him. “It’s probably just hidden.”

 

Merlin nodded. “We need to search the whole room,” he said as he looked around. There wasn’t much to search through though. There was a statue of a raven next to the table, more unlit torches, the table and the shelves- “the table!” Merlin exclaimed as he let go of Arthur and came closer to the table. “It’s got drawers, there’s got to be something hidden inside.”

 

Arthur smiled at him. “Where else would he hide it after all,” he nodded and went closer. He tried the drawers, but they were all locked. Before he could say anything, Merlin was already reaching out his hand toward the locks.

 

“This is no problem,” he smiled as he whispered, “ _Tospringe!_ ” The drawers all opened with ease and Arthur’s eyes widened in awe.

 

“This would have been really useful when I-”

 

“When what?” Merlin asked him as he was already searching through the drawers.

 

Arthur swallowed. “Nothing, let’s looks inside.”

 

They opened the first one - there were only old pieces of coal for drawing, more black quills and faded papers. Other drawers contained the same until the last one - there was a book.

 

“Yes!” they both exclaimed at the same time as they took the book and put it on the table.

 

Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he concentrated. One last time. This had to be it.

 

“ _Onhríne achtung bregdan.”_

 

He searched and searched, images and words flashing through his mind as his eyes moved under his closed eyelids. Then one word stopped him. He gasped as the book stopped moving and opened on a page. There was a spell written in gold ink and as Merlin leaned closer to read it, he knew it was it.

 

“That’s it!” He laughed as he hugged Arthur. Arthur hugged him back and kissed his neck with happiness. Merlin sighed into that and then pulled away, looking at the book again.

 

“I knew you’d find it.” Arthur smiled at him.

 

“This book is full of very powerful spells,” Merlin told him. “They could all prove to be useful, I need to take it with me.”

 

“We’ll take the book then-”

 

“Books.” Merlin corrected him as he reached for the book where he’d found the healing spell. He stuffed it into his backpack and smiled at Arthur. “This will allow me to be prepared for the future.”

 

“I think you’re already prepared enough,” Arthur smiled at him.

 

“We’ll see.”

 

Merlin sat down to look at the spell that erased memories and read it a few times in his mind. “This is a very powerful spell, we need to be careful with it.”

 

“You need to be careful,” Arthur reminded him. “I just need to make sure to stay close to you as you cast it.”

 

Merlin smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you remember everything.”

 

“I sure hope so, I can’t wait to show you how much better my own bed in Camelot is,” Arthur smirked.

 

Merlin blushed at that and then smiled. “I can’t wait for you to show me,” he replied. Arthur beamed at his answer. “Now come on, we should head back to Camelot to cast the spell.”

 

Merlin took the book of spells and put it into his backpack. Now it was much heavier with three books in it.

 

Arthur took his sword that he left in the bedroom, Merlin adjusted the backpack on his back and they headed back down the stairs to the cellar. Arthur reached out his hand and Merlin took it, entwining their fingers and using his other hand to create the light orb to guide them through the darkness.

 

They successfully went past the trap without activating it again and with some magic managed to climb up the hole in the wall that they created the day before as they kissed and leaned against the wall. They still hadn’t found any other entrance to the castle, but there must have been one.

 

Once they were outside and could breathe freely again without the dust everywhere, they took a deep breath and set off South-West, in the direction of Camelot.

 

Nothing happy lasted forever though. Because as they rounded the corner of the castle, they both halted in their tracks.

 

They weren’t alone.

 

“What’s the matter, you didn’t think I would find you?” They heard a familiar voice that had a very familiar face. That face wore a satisfied smile. “Hello again.”

 

“Kaunos.”

 

 

 

_More art for this chapter:_

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vale of Denaria is on the official Camelot map by BBC. It's located above the Mountains of Andor, close to Mercia.
> 
>  
> 
> **SPELLS**
> 
>  
> 
> \- _“Leoht”_ \- It means "light" and was used by Merlin in 4x01 The Darkest Hour Part 1. He created a sphere of light in his palm. In this fanfic though (for the purpose of _they really need to talk about this_ ), I made this spell create a light orb above his palm, which Merlin created in 1x04 The Poisoned Chalice, to guide Arthur out of the caves of Balor, where Nimueh had trapped him. In 1x04 when Merlin creates the light orb, he does whisper a spell, but to be honest, the translation doesn’t really make sense (it’s an opening line from Beowulf and the translation has nothing to do with light or anything), so instead I used the simple spell used in 4x01. I hope this makes sense. :D
> 
> \- _“Ge hailige”_ \- It means "heal together" and was used by Merlin on Arthur in 3x12 The Coming of Arthur Part One, but it didn’t work.
> 
> \- _"Gestepe hole! Þurhhæle!"_ \- used in 1x13 Le Morte d’Arthur by Merlin. According to Merlin’s Complete Guide it means “Cure. Make well.” And the possible translation is “Heal the injury! Heal thoroughly!”
> 
> \- _"Licsar gestapol nu!"_ \- used in 3x05 The Crystal Cave again, by Merlin. It means “Behold, you support the mortal wound!”
> 
> \- _"Purhhaele dolgbenn"_ \- used in 3x05 The Crystal Cave by Merlin. It means “Heal thoroughly the wound.”
> 
> \- _“Onhríne achtung bregdan.”_ \- This spell was used by Merlin in 1x02 Valiant, when he opened an etiquette book with magic - the book opened itself. It means “Lay hold of honor, move it quickly.” (Note: achtung is an unknown word in English; possibly German for attention/recognition/honor.)
> 
> \- _“Purhhaele licsar min”_ \- It means "heal thorougly my body wound" and was used by Gilli in 3x11 The Sorcerer’s Shadow.
> 
> \- _"Tospringe"_ \- It means "open quickly" and was used for example in episodes 2x01 The Curse of Cornelius Sigan, when Merlin escapes from the cell, or in 2x03 The Nightmare Beings, when Merlin blows off the gate.


	10. The Spell

“Kaunos!” Merlin said in surprise. They didn’t expect him to find them so soon, what the hell was he doing here? How could he find them here of all places? In the castle of Cornelius Sigan?

  


Gaius was right, Kaunos was better at his job than Aredian.

  


Before Merlin could react in any way, Arthur unsheathed his sword and took a few steps forward to Kaunos.

  


“Really?” Kaunos laughed. “You’re protecting _him_? The sorcerer? I guess the prophecy is correct then.”

  


“Oh, I know all about the prophecy, Kaunos,” Arthur replied as he walked towards him. Kaunos didn’t seem to be armed. His arms were behind his back and he kept smiling. “And you won’t be here once we fulfil it and bring magic back to this kingdom.”

  


Despite the situation, Merlin couldn’t help but smile at that. Arthur accepting magic was far from what he thought just a year ago - that all sorcerers were liars and magic was evil.

  


It made Merlin proud, but also more worried when he saw that Arthur was now walking faster towards Kaunos, who still kept smiling for some wicked reason.

  


“Your father thinks you’re enchanted,” he told them as Arthur was still getting closer and closer. “Now, I know that’s not true. I promised I’d bring you back, but now that I think about it, I think that you’re better off as a necessary sacrifice for peace and ridding the world of magic.”

  


“If you think that’s the future, you’re mistaken!” Arthur rotated the sword in his hands and prepared for his enemy.

  


In that moment, Kaunos reached out his hand from behind his back and revealed a dagger.

  


“Arthur!” Merlin yelled.

  


Arthur reacted fast. He grabbed Kaunos’ arm with the dagger, but it was too late. It pierced Arthur’s skin. Merlin watched as Arthur stopped Kaunos’ hand from moving farther, and slowly pulled the dagger out by sheer force. He then squeezed Kaunos’ wrist so hard that he was forced to drop it. Kaunos gritted his teeth in pain, but his smirk stayed there. Was he planning all this?

  


Arthur then prepared his sword to pierce-

  


“Arthur, stop!” Merlin called.

  


Arthur’s arm stopped moving, but he quickly pressed the blade of his sword to Kaunos’ neck so he wouldn’t move. “What is it?” He called at Merlin without looking at him.

  


Merlin ran towards them. “Don’t kill him-”

  


“Why?” Arthur yelled. “After what he’s done to you, _to us_?”

  


Merlin frowned at that. “I can try the spell on him. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough, I need to practise.”

  


Arthur was silent for a moment, just looking into Kaunos’ eyes and at his everlasting grin with hatred. “Fine,” he finally replied.

  


Kaunos smiled. “My lor-”

  


Arthur stepped away, raised his sword and hit Kaunos with the hilt. The witchfinder gasped and his eyes closed as he fell down into the grass.

  


“But I don’t want to look at his annoying smile anymore,” Arthur explained and stepped away from his body on the ground, finally looking down at his new wound.

  


“That’s fair,” Merlin mumbled, but let Kaunos lie there and instead stepped closer to Arthur. “You’re hurt again.”

  


Arthur shook his head as he touched his chainmail where it was covered with blood. There wasn’t much of it. “It’s merely a scratch.”

  


“Doesn’t matter, I’ll cure it,” Merlin reached out his hands, but Arthur stopped him and nodded towards the witchfinder, still unconscious on the ground.

  


“First do your magic,” Arthur told him as he looked into Merlin’s eyes. “This can wait.”

  


Merlin pursed his lips in disapproval, but nodded in the end. “Fine,” he mumbled.

  


Arthur rolled his eyes. “Before he wakes up,” he gave Merlin a reason for Kaunos being more important than Arthur’s stab wound.

  


“Are you suggesting you didn’t hit him hard enough?” Merlin grinned at him, glad to see Arthur roll his eyes again fondly.

  


“Shut up,” the prince mumbled. Then his frown returned as he stared down at their enemy.

  


Merlin sighed and finally turned away from Arthur, facing Kaunos. He was angry with him, but he really needed to at least try the spell once before he would use it on Camelot. They had to be sure it worked. He opened his backpack, finding and retrieving the spell book he needed. He opened it on the page that he had bookmarked with a piece of another paper that they’d found on the table and read the incantation.

  


“ _Gedeowie dæt mod disse . . ._ uhm . . . _mannes! Abricaþ ond forgietan heora ingemynd, min gúdæda innan dægrím!”_

  


Merlin’s eyes flashed bright gold as he watched Kaunos. He didn’t move, he was still unconscious.

  


“Did it work?”

  


“I don’t know,” Merlin shook his head. “But I guess we won’t know until he wakes up.”

  


“We can’t stay here for that long.” Arthur reminded him. And he was right, going back to Camelot was the most important thing right now.

  


“We’ll leave him here then,” Merlin suggested as he closed the book and looked at Arthur.

  


Arthur nodded. “I don’t want to see his face again in my life,” he uttered.

  


Merlin had to agree. He did forget his staff in his room, but Kaunos was the one who ruined their lives. He only hoped all of that could be fixed now. He knelt down next to him and took away his dagger that he used to hurt Arthur, and tucked it into his own belt. Merlin then put the book back into his backpack and put the backpack on his back. He worriedly glanced at Arthur and the blood on his abdomen, but Arthur was already turning away from him.

  


“Let’s go,” he said as he walked away, “We need to reach Camelot today.”

  


Arthur waited for him near the edge of the forest and Merlin ran up to him, taking his hand again. It was nice to hold Arthur’s hand like this. To be so close and be able to do everything that he’s ever imagined. Bur before he could start smiling because of how close they now were, he had to heal Arthur again.

  


“Wait,” he stopped him gently and saw Arthur roll his eyes when he realized what Merlin was doing. Merlin pursed his lips. “Like it or not, I need to heal this.”

  


“You just want to undress me again,” Arthur smirked at him, making Merlin blush. Damn him.

  


“That’s only partly true,” Merlin smirked slightly as he stood in front of Arthur and looked into his eyes.

  


Arthur leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. “I know,” he smiled at him. He kept looking at Merlin as he removed his belt, the plates on his shoulders and the one around his neck. Merlin then took the chainmail and slowly pulled it over Arthur’s head, still staring into his eyes. Together they removed Arthur’s padded jacket and rolled up the tunic up to his neck, revealing the wound. It was different to undress Arthur now because all the light touches of his fingers on Arthur’s bare skin were intentional. Not that they were unintentional before, but Merlin tried to make them seem accidental. Now he didn’t have to and Arthur knew it, and didn’t mind. He welcomed itif the growing smirk on his face was anything to go by.

  


Merlin tried to concentrate on Arthur’s bleeding stomach instead of the way that it was covered in goosebumps because of the cold air. He inspected the wound, and found out that Arthur was right. It was only a scratch and whatever Kaunos had wanted to achieve, he didn’t. Thankfully.

  


“It’s not serious,” Merlin commented on the wound as he kept staring at Arthur’s skin. It moved as Arthur laughed softly and answered.

  


“I told you.”

  


Merlin just silently reached out his hand and covered the wound carefully. “ _Purhhaele licsar thin_ ,” he whispered. The skin immediately started to repair, leaving behind no damage in a matter of seconds. “Done,” Merlin stated as he brushed his hand across Arthur’s stomach, leaving behind a shudder as Arthur gasped and then cleared his throat immediately after.

  


Merlin couldn’t help but smirk at that. He was really looking forward to Arthur’s bed in Camelot.

  


“Thanks,” Arthur said as Merlin looked up at him. This time it was Merlin who kissed him.

  


“Now let’s get you dressed again,” he mumbled into Arthur’s lips with his eyes open and staring into Arthur’s.

  


He helped Arthur with the padded jacket and the chainmail and the armour on top of that, and then finally grabbed his hand again.

  


They walked in silence for a long time.

  


Without a horse it was a very long way back to Camelot. But they were together now, like _together_ together, and Merlin felt like they could achieve anything that they set their minds on.

  


They walked for hours and made a few stops to rest. Merlin told Arthur about Sophia and the staff, about how he was enchanted. He also told him about Lancelot and admitted to have forged the documents for him to become a knight. Arthur wasn’t too happy about that, but eventually he agreed with Merlin that Lancelot deserved it and should be a knight again shall he ever return to Camelot.

  


They laughed together, they kissed and held hands, took turns in carrying the heavy backpack, but they were still hungry.

  


Eventually, they had to stop to get some rest again, for at least the fifth time in the last few hours. It was Arthur who asked for the various rests they had taken which was a bit unusual as, on all the other trips they had invariably taken together, Arthur was the one to continue pushing forward while the other knights wished for rest. Merlin simply assumed that the fight with Kaunos must have tired him out and that they hadn’t been able to eat much due to the fact of them not having much food left.

  


They picked a place near a little meadow and close to another stream of water. They had had to leave the water stream that led to the Vale of Denaria long ago.

  


Arthur took off the heavy backpack and left it near a tree, sighing with relief loudly. Then he went to splash his face with fresh water from the stream, keeping his eyes closed for a long time. Merlin washed his face as well, refilling their water skin after he did so.

  


“We have to eat,” he mumbled. “We don’t have much left, but we need to eat something,” he touched his stomach. It was hurting from how empty it was.

  


Arthur nodded, still with his eyes closed. He looked tired. “We’ve only got the meat now.”

  


“Then we finish it,” Merlin told him. “Or we can hunt something.”

  


Arthur smiled at that, finally opening his eyes at him. “I thought you hated hunting trips.”

  


Merlin just shrugged. “Today it’s either some poor squirrel or us, so we don’t really have a choice.”

  


Arthur nodded again, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. We’ll eat the meat and wait for a bit to see if there’s anything to hunt, there might be a bird-”

  


“You don’t have your crossbow,” Merlin reminded him.

  


Arthur closed his eyes in regret. “True,” he sighed. “Then we’ll have to wait and pray that there’s some blind and deaf squirrel on its way towards us, or we’ll have to find at least some berries or something.”

  


“Berries it is,” Merlin sighed.

  


What else could they possibly do?

  


Oh, _right._

  


“Or I can use magic,” he suggested.

  


Arthur looked at him as if he had forgotten Merlin had magic altogether. “Do you just randomly forget that you have magic?”

  


Merlin shrugged. “Do _you_ randomly forget that I have magic?”

  


Arthur rolled his eyes and then closed them again, frowning. Merlin raised his eyebrows at that, but sighed and stood up again. He would try to hunt something later, now they needed to rest and eat whatever they had left.

  


They sat together by a tree and leaned against it. Merlin opened the backpack and pulled out the remaining two pieces of dried meat that Arthur had brought with him as he was looking for Merlin and which Merlin had later stolen.

  


Merlin never wished so much to have stolen more from Arthur.

  


He took one piece and handed the other to Arthur, who took it and started biting slowly. At least they had something, right? And they also had each other.

  


After some more time of just sitting next to each other, leaning against the same tree with their sides touching, Merlin took one of the spell books from Sigan and opened it. Arthur looked at him curiously, and Merlin just smiled.

  


“As I was searching through the book, I found this one spell . . . It seemed interesting.”

  


“Alright,” Arthur nodded and cleared his throat loudly. “Are you going to try it?”

  


“Yeah,” Merlin smiled at him, but that smile disappeared when Arthur coughed. He kept his eyes closed and only now Merlin realized that Arthur seemed way more tired than he should be. He stared at him for a moment, Arthur not seeing him because he’d closed his eyes. Then when he opened them after he noticed the silence, he seemed a little confused. “Are you alright?”

  


Arthur frowned slightly and then nodded. “Of course I’m alr-” and he coughed again.

  


Merlin didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

  


Something was _wrong._

  


“Arthur-”

  


“I think I’m . . . ,” Arthur cleared his throat again as he looked at Merlin, “I’m just a little tired,” he closed his eyes again and let his head hit the tree behind him. “My head hurts.”

  


Merlin didn’t hesitate and touched Arthur’s forehead with his palm. It was burning. “You’ve got a fever,” he realized.

  


“What.” Arthur asked monotonously as he kept his eyes closed. “Maybe I caught a cold.”

  


Merlin shook his head. No, that couldn’t be it. “This is different,” he frowned as he removed Arthur’s belt and rolled up his chainmail, padded jacket and stuck his head underneath his tunic.

  


“Warm,” Arthur smiled weakly.

  


Merlin just closed his eyes and concentrated. No, the wound was healed and Arthur didn’t lose nearly enough blood to be in this state. This had to be something else.

  


“Ugh, we need to keep moving,” Arthur reminded him, but Merlin shushed him with his finger on Arthur’s lips.

  


“You’re not going anywhere like this.”

  


“I’m your prince, Mer-”

  


“And I’m your boyfriend,” Merlin pointed out. Then he paused.

  


Did he just say what he thought he said? He looked up at Arthur, who was staring at him with a light smile playing at his lips.

  


“I like the sound of that,” he told him.

  


“Me too,” Merlin replied with a smile. Then it disappeared again and his brows creased in worry. “And as your boyfriend, I’m telling you that there’s something wrong,” Merlin informed him. “Although the wound is healed.”

  


“Maybe . . . Maybe the castle really was cursed,” Arthur suggested.

  


Merlin shook his head. “No, I’d be affected too, but I’m alright. Just hungry.”

  


“Maybe you’re not affected because your magic protects you,” Arthur shrugged weakly.

  


But Merlin wasn’t sure that that was the right explanation. Sure, it could have been, but if that was the case, wouldn’t the curse instead target someone with strong magic like Merlin had? Because of how much Sigan hated him, Emrys? Or maybe it would affect them both, both normal people and sorcerers. Bur Merlin was _alright._

  


“No, it’s got to be from the wound.”

  


“You healed it,” Arthur pointed out.

  


“I did,” Merlin frowned as he thought about it. Kaunos hurt Arthur and even though the wound wasn’t fatal, he kept smiling at them triumphantly. What happened? What did he really do? Did he have some kind of a secret plan that worked?

  


Merlin gasped as he realized what Kaunos might have done to Arthur. He reached for the dagger he had taken from Kaunos and tucked into his belt and looked at it. It seemed like a normal blade, with bits of blood on it (Merlin had wiped most of it off on grass).

  


“What is it?” Arthur asked.

  


Merlin just took the dagger and smelled it carefully.

  


A strong odor that he didn’t notice before hit his nostrils and Merlin quickly put it away, exhaling through his nose.

  


“It’s poison,” he finally realized. Then he looked at Arthur with his eyes wide in horror. “Kaunos poisoned you!”

  


Arthur just looked tired as he sighed. “Wouldn’t be the first time I was poisoned.”

  


This wasn’t time for jokes. Merlin hurriedly threw the dagger away and put both his hands over Arthur’s stomach. He still didn’t understand why his spell didn’t neutralise the poison together with healing the wound, but there was no time to think about it now, he had to do the spell again.

  


He closed his eyes and whispered with firm voice, “ _Purhhaele licsar thin_.” His eyes flashed gold and he put his hands away, quickly reaching for Arthur’s forehead.

  


It was still hot.

  


But that was okay, he didn’t expect the fever to disappear right away.

  


“Did you heal me?”

  


“I hope so,” Merlin told him as he stood up and went to the stream of water, wetting his palms. Then he went back to Arthur and placed his cold hands on Arthur’s forehead again, hoping to lower the temperature a little bit.

  


“Merlin-”

  


“Shh, you should rest now,” Merlin smiled at him. “You still need to show me your bed, remember?” He tried to cheer Arthur up, but he didn’t smile.

  


“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur moaned in discomfort silently, “no offence, but I feel worse rather than better.”

  


“That makes no sense,” Merlin frowned at him. “I’ll try it again,” he prepared Arthur as he placed his cold hands on his warm stomach. Arthur winced slightly at the sensation. “ _Purhhaele licsar thin!_ ”

  


He felt his magic leave his fingertips and pour into Arthur, but yet again, Arthur didn’t show any signs of getting better. And fear found its way into Merlin’s heart once again.

  


What kind of poison did Kaunos use?

  


Arthur coughed again and Merlin held him so that he wouldn’t roll down onto the forest ground. The prince’s eyes were closed tightly, but now he opened them and looked at Merlin.

  


Merlin saw confusion in them, and then slight fear.

  


“It’s not working, is it?”

  


Merlin didn’t want to answer that. There had to be something that worked. “I’ll try a stronger spell,” he bit his lower lip as he turned away from Arthur. He looked at the spell book that was still opened and lying next to him, and he quickly used magic to search through the pages, not even saying anything this time.

  


_There._

  


He turned to Arthur and kept his hand on his stomach. “ _Wel cene hole!_ ”

  


But nothing happened. He turned back to the book and searched through it again, finding another, stronger healing spell. “ _Bot ond tile_!”

  


No effect.

  


Again.

  


“ _Efencume... ætgædre, eala gastas cræft ige: gestrice þis lic forod_!” Merlin yelled, no longer caring if anyone heard them in the forest, though it seemed empty around them. He took a deep breath.

  


And again.

  


“ _Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare_!”

  


_Nothing._

  


That was it. All the healing spells he knew and all the ones from both Sigan’s books. For a man who thought about cheating death constantly, he didn’t seem to know enough healing spells.

  


Merlin felt panic overwhelm him.

  


It couldn’t end like this, Arthur was supposed to become the king and they were supposed to beat Kaunos. They thought they had.

  


“Merlin . . . “ Arthur whispered and Merlin’s eyes found his. “If there’s no cure-”

  


“Of course there’s cure, shut up.” Merlin silenced him with tears in his eyes.

  


Despite everything that was happening, Arthur had a smile on his face. “I’m the one who says shut up, remember?”

  


“Not anymore, I’m your boyfriend now, remember?” Merlin tried to smile at him, but it wasn’t genuine. His mind was full of chaos, swirling thoughts of their futures and unfulfilled destinies, his _failure._

  


“Merlin, this-” Arthur coughed and covered his mouth with his hand. “If you can’t heal me . . .”

  


Merlin could see the blood in his palm.

  


“You’re coughing blood,” he informed him silently. Yet again, he placed his hand on Arthur’s stomach and repeated, “ _Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare_!”

  


But nothing happened.

  


It was like his magic was useless for some reason. Like he wasn’t strong enough.

  


“Merlin-”

  


“No,” Merlin stood up, suddenly determined. “You’re not saying goodbye, and this isn’t the end.”

  


“Where are you going?” Arthur asked him, his voice weak, but still _alive._

  


“To get help.” Merlin answered him. “Just stay here and don’t move. And don’t worry.”

  


He left Arthur at the tree and walked to the edge of the forest, which was just a few feet away from them. He reached a meadow, large enough for what he was planning to do.

  


He looked up at the sky and hoped that Kilgharrah wouldn’t take long. This was his last chance, he _had_ to save Arthur.

  


“ _O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!”_

  


The words echoed all around him throughout the meadow and the forests around. He didn’t care. All he cared about was saving Arthur because without him alive, this trip, this entire search for the castle and their way back to Camelot was _useless._

  


Without Arthur, he had no reason to even be here, to be _alive._

  


“You’re calling the dragon again?” He heard Arthur yell behind him, which was followed by a cough.

  


“Don’t worry, he’ll help us,” Merlin called back, trying to assure both Arthur and himself. Because what if Kilgharrah couldn’t help either? There had to be a reason why his spells, even Sigan’s spells didn’t work. They worked on his leg before, so there was no reason they shouldn’t work. Yet they didn’t.

  


What had Kaunos done to Arthur?

  


It didn’t even take ten minutes for Kilgharrah to find him and land down on the meadow. Merlin kept glancing at Arthur, but once he was sure he was safe there, he turned to Kilgharrah. The dragon bowed his head slowly and then looked at Merlin, frowning.

  


He could see that Merlin was distressed. “Why do you call me this time, young warlock?”

  


Merlin swallowed. “Arthur’s poisoned! And my magic doesn’t work, I’ve tried different spells from Sigan’s grimoires, but they have no effect! Arthur’s not getting better.”

  


“I see,” Kilgharrah narrowed his eyes, searching for Arthur in the forest. “So you did find the castle.”

  


“Yes,” Merlin nodded. “But then the witchfinder found us and hurt Arthur with a poisoned blade. I managed to heal the wound, but-”

  


“But the poison remains unaffected.” Kilgharrah finished for him.

  


Merlin just nodded, the tears in his eyes finally spilling. He quickly wiped them away, but the dragon saw them.

  


“Do not worry, young warlock. This is not the end for you nor it is for Arthur.”

  


Yeah, that was easily said, but Merlin didn’t feel that way at all. Arthur was dying behind him in the forest and Kilgharrah was his only hope.

  


“Can you help him?” Merlin asked, surprised to find his voice so shaky.

  


Kilgharrah bowed his head again in confirmation and looked behind Merlin at Arthur. “Bring Arthur here and I promise to do my best.”

  


Merlin wasn’t sure he trusted another one of Kilgarrah’s promises, but he knew he wouldn’t hurt Arthur. He was the one who told him of their shared destiny and he himself believed it and hoped for a better future and the kingdom of Albion.

  


Merlin turned around and ran back to Arthur. He was still sitting there in silence, but he must have heard their conversation.

  


“Can he help me?” Arthur asked him once he saw Merlin.

  


Merlin swallowed. “He’s much more knowledgeable than I am.”

  


Arthur nodded and Merlin bent down closer to him, taking his arm and putting it around his shoulders. When Arthur realized he would need to stand up, he supported his other hand on the trunk of the tree he was leaning against and tried to get up with Merlin’s help. Once he was on his legs, he almost fell down again. Merlin was surprised at how quickly Arthur was getting worse. He was walking just fine a few moments ago, but the poison must have been strong.

  


“We’re coming!” Merlin called at Kilgharrah as he half walked, half carried Arthur out of the forest to the edge of the meadow. There he helped him sit down on the ground and lean against one of the nearest trees to the meadow with Kilgharrah.

  


“We meet again,” Arthur looked up at the dragon and Kilgharrah bowed just as he did to Merlin. For a second Merlin was worried Arthur would start yelling at Kilgharrah again, but now he was too weak to do that.

  


At least Kilgharrah could help them faster without arguing with Arthur.

  


Merlin looked up at Kilgharrah and nodded. The dragon then opened his mouth and looked at Arthur, his eyes more gold than usual. “ _Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ_!”

  


His voice was deep and sounded so _ancient_. Merlin could easily tell that this was a very strong spell, he felt its power as it surrounded them and targeted Arthur.

  


The prince moaned in pain and closed his eyes tightly.

  


“Arthur?” Merlin yelled as he ran towards him and touched his forehead again. Still burning, too _hot._ Arthur’s eyes were still closed and he didn’t seem to be any better. “Arthur!” Merlin yelled at him, but Arthur didn’t answer. His breaths were coming out quick, too quick for Merlin’s liking. “Kilgharrah?” Merlin turned to look at the dragon with panic in his eyes. He seemed just as surprised as Merlin.

  


Arthur then took a sharp breath and stilled in Merlin’s arms. “Arthur!” Merlin shook with his shoulders, but he didn’t move.

  


No.

  


This couldn’t be it.

  


This couldn’t be the _end_ for them.

  


Just as Kilgharrah said, there was so much for them in the future. So much!

  


“The young Pendragon isn’t dead, Merlin,” he heard Kilgharrah say. Merlin let out a sob and gasped in relief when he touched Arthur’s neck and felt his pulse it was weak. He was still breathing though. He wasn’t dead, Kilgharrah was right.

  


“What’s wrong with him?” Merlin looked up at the dragon, his cheeks wet from tears. “Why isn’t he responding?”

  


The dragon seemed to look sad. “There is something blocking the magic used on him.”

  


“What?”

  


Merlin didn’t understand. He did heal his injury from Kaunos’ dagger! How could anything be blocking the power of magic?

  


“The poison is something that I’ve never witnessed before,” Kilgharrah continued with his vague explanation. “It is not made of magic, but it is immune to it. No magic can stop this poison from spreading through Arthur’s body.”

  


Merlin felt even worse now.

  


_Helpless_.

  


“Is there no way to save him?” Merlin let out another sob as he turned back to his prince and gently cupped his cheek. “He can’t die, I can’t lose him . . . “

  


“Arthur’s life does not end here, Merlin.” The dragon assured him. “He is not destined to die by a poison but rather by the druid Mordred’s hand. You know it.”

  


Merlin didn’t want to think about that now.

  


“Then how do we save him?” Merlin pleaded as he looked at the dragon once more.

  


“We cannot use magic. His poison will need to be neutralised naturally.”

  


Great. They didn’t have enough time to go to Camelot and get Gaius to help them, not to mention the fact that the second Merlin set foot in Camelot he would be arrested and executed. If they couldn’t use magic and didn’t have Gaius’ help either, they had to deal with this on their own.

  


Merlin nodded and swallowed, closing his eyes and wiping his tears. He had to calm down and concentrate on what he needed to do.

  


_Save Arthur._

  


He took a deep breath and turned to Kilgharrah. “What do we have to do?”

  


The dragon nodded. “You will need to know what poison was used.”

  


Right. That was the first thing he needed to know when he wanted to make an antidote. He’s learned that from Gaius.

  


Merlin nodded and stood up, running back into the forest where they’d left their things by the water stream. He took Sigan’s book and put it back into his backpack, and put it on his back. Then he searched for Kaunos’ dagger that he had thrown away once he’d realized it was poisoned.

  


He found it near the water. Thankfully, it wasn’t actually in the water and hadn’t floated away. He picked it up and ran back to Kilgharrah, holding it up for him.

  


The dagger started floating in his hand and he let it go when he realized that Kilgharrah was doing it. It floated closer to the dragon’s nostrils and then his eyes and then back to Merlin. Merlin accepted the dagger and put it in his belt again.

  


“Well?”

  


“I recognise this poison,” Kilgharrah nodded. “I’ve seen it a few times in my life.”

  


Thank god, at least Kilgharrah knew what they were dealing with.

  


“What do we need to neutralise it?” he asked.

  


“You will need Yarrow, Rosemary, Comfrey, Meadowsweet for the pain and Hogwort.” Kilgharrah told him and Merlin was trying to remember it all along with what all those herbs looked like. He knew Yarrow and Rosemary, Meadowsweet shouldn’t be hard to find somewhere around here on the meadow and Comfrey too. But what about Hogwort?

  


“Hogwort?” he asked hesitantly. He hoped it wasn’t some herb that only grew on the other side of the world, then he would have failed and their destiny would never have the chance to be fulfilled. It made Merlin feel anxious.

  


“Hogwort is indeed hard to come by,” Kilgharrah confirmed Merlin’s worries. “It only grows in open sandy areas, where it doesn’t often rain.”

  


That definitely wasn’t in Camelot.

  


“Do you know of such a place?” he asked the dragon, hoping that Arthur’s life wasn’t lost yet.

  


“I do,” Kilgharrah nodded slowly. “One such place is located in the South of Kent.”

  


“But that’s like eight days journey!” Merlin cried in frustration.

  


There was no way they had so much time. He turned back to Arthur - he was breathing heavily and he could see a bit of blood on his lips - by the time they’d come back, Arthur would be dead. Besides, Arthur couldn’t even properly walk anymore and they didn’t even have a horse to move faster.

  


Merlin then turned back to Kilgharrah and looked at him. His eyes were curious to see how Merlin would solve this situation. Perhaps he already knew the answer but was waiting for Merlin to discover it on his own.

  


He looked at the dragon, at his huge wings-

  


Wings! That was it! Dragons were way faster than horses!

  


“Kilgharrah, I have a favour to ask,” Merlin looked into his eyes, pleading. “I need you to fly to Kent and fetch this herb and return as fast as you can. I’ll try to find the rest of the herbs around here.”

  


Kilgharrah nodded. “As you wish, young warlock.”

  


He spread his wings and jumped into the air, staying there and flying away. Merlin immediately rushed back to Arthur to wipe the blood off his lips and give him some water. He took the waterskin from his backpack and placed it near Arthur’s lips, trying to make him drink it. After a while Arthur managed to take a few sips, although he still seemed to remain unconscious, even through his coughing.

  


Merlin blinked and let his tears fall on Arthur’s cheeks, wiping them away and closing his eyes.

  


This wasn’t good. First Merlin almost died, now Arthur was almost dying and who knew if Kaunos didn’t somehow remember what happened and came after them again? Right now, there was no telling what more the witchfinder could do.

  


Merlin took a deep breath and kissed Arthur’s cheeks.

  


It was his job now to find the rest of the flowers. Yarrow, Rosemary, Comfrey and Meadowsweet. He’d seen Gaius use each of them at least once, so he hoped it wouldn’t be any problem finding them. First he had to take a look at the meadow. The grass wasn’t too high, but it was higher closer to the edges of the forests around. He could see many flowers growing there, as well as different kinds of grass.

  


First he needed to find Yarrow then. He looked down at Arthur one last time, and then he stood up, looking around. Where was it most likely to grow?

  


When he was just about to leave Arthur and search for the herbs, something caught his attention and stopped him. He could hear something. After a few more seconds, he could recognise the sound.

  


_Horses._

  


He quickly sat back next to Arthur, reached out his hand and mumbled the incantation to create the same shield around them that he’d made when he left Arthur in their small camp and the knights had found him for the first time.

  


And he finished just in time.

  


As soon as he let his arm fall down and hugged Arthur, he could see the first horses emerge from the other side of the meadow, to their left.

  


They were Camelot knights. They had large bright red cloaks around them as they galloped through the meadow, closer to Merlin and Arthur.

  


Merlin just hoped the spell worked and that they couldn’t see them.

  


When they got closer and Merlin could recognise their faces, they suddenly slowed down. Merlin could see that their leader was Sir Leon again.

  


“Did we lose his tracks?” One of them asked.

  


“Did the witchfinder not go through here?”

  


“I told you I heard something, it must have been a large beast!”

  


“Quiet!” Leon commanded as they slowly moved closer to Merlin and Arthur. “It might still be here.”

  


Merlin looked around. Were they talking about Kilgharrah? Did they see him? Or hear him?

  


After a while, one of the knights spoke again, “I don’t see anything.”

  


“You should spend less time in the tavern!”

  


“Shut your mouth!”

  


Merlin couldn’t stop watching them. He wondered if they could feel someone watching them. Should he stop? He couldn’t tear his eyes off of them and his heart was racing in his chest. It was so loud he could hear it.

  


The knights were so close to their position. He knew now that they couldn’t see them, but he prayed that they’d leave soon and continue searching for them somewhere else.

  


Suddenly, Arthur coughed again and Merlin immediately covered his mouth with his hand.

  


_Shit_

  


This was the _worst_ timing in the history of Camelot.

  


“I heard something!” One of the knights exclaimed. His horse neighed and Leon raised his fist into the air to silence all of them.

  


They were looking in his direction, but couldn’t see him. Could they notice the shield that he made? Why wasn’t it soundproof like before? Did he say the incantation incorrectly? Probably. But he couldn’t think about that now. He had to distract them.

  


With a flash of gold in his eyes, a bush on the opposite side of the meadow moved loudly.

  


“There!” On of the knights pointed and Leon turned his head to look. “I heard something move, I’m telling you!”

  


Leon slowly turned his horse away from Merlin and so did the other knights. They started moving again, riding away from Merlin and closer to where Merlin made the bush move. He used his magic again and another bush moved, farther away from them.

  


“I see it too!”

  


“I heard it move!

  


“It’s the beast!”

  


He heard them speculate, now silently, as they all rode away. One more bush moved on the end of the meadow, far away from Merlin and as the knights left and entered the forest, Merlin finally let out a sigh of relief.

  


Arthur coughed again and Merlin quickly removed his hand from his mouth, seeing blood on it.

  


“No,” he whispered as he wiped it into the grass and then stood up again, determined.

  


He needed to find those herbs.

  


He reached out his hands and concentrated, closing his eyes. They flashed gold and he successfully expanded the invisible shield to almost half of the meadow. That way he could reach the opposite edge of the meadow and find the Yarrow and the rest without being seen.

  


Merlin quickly got to work. He left Arthur lying there against the tree and ran away from him, quickly looking at the flowers all around him and searching for anything tall and white. He didn’t find it at first, but he did find Meadowsweet. It was a different tall and white flower that grew closer to the edge of the forest. Then he found Yarrow.

  


All he needed now was Rosemary and Comfrey and hopefully Kilgharrah would return with the Hogwort soon.

  


He couldn’t find them anywhere on the meadow. After some time he returned to Arthur, thankful to see that he was still breathing. He wasn’t getting better though. He left the Yarrow and Meadowsweet next to him and made the invisible shield smaller again so that no one could enter it unintentionally and see Arthur. Then he continued his search behind them in the forest, close to the water stream.

  


After a few minutes he found a rock that they hadn’t noticed on their way there. It was a huge rock though, several feet tall, and around it, Merlin was glad to see more flowers.

  


Among them, there was the Rosemary.

  


Merlin has never been so happy to find such flower and feel its needle-like leaves against his skin. He quickly took it and searched around for the Comfrey. It was the last one he needed besides the Hogwort.

  


After a few minutes of pointless searching, he heard a big thud behind him from Arthur’s location. He prayed for it to be Kilgharrah, but he needed to check.

  


Just as he was about to turn around and run back, he spotted it - the Comfrey. He quickly grabbed it and ran back to where he’d left Arthur by the tree.

  


Once he arrived back to the meadow and saw Kilgharrah already standing there, he let out another sigh of relief. Thank god it wasn’t the knights.

  


“Kilgharrah!” he called as he emerged from the invisible shield and expanded it so that Kilgharrah was inside it as well and could see them. The dragon bowed to greet him. “Do you have the Hogwort?”

  


“I do, young warlock.”

  


And with just those few words, Merlin’s hope was restored again.

  


“I’ve found the rest of the flowers. What do I do now?” He asked as he noticed a pile of sandy dry soil and flowers on the ground. Kilgharrah must have carried it in his paw. Thank god he didn’t drop it anywhere.

  


“Now we must prepare the antidote.”

  


Merlin nodded and took the Hogwort, together with the four other herbs. According to Kilgharrah’s instructions and from what he’d seen Gaius do so many times, he took the essential parts of each flower and mixed them on a flat rock that he’d found and carried closer to Arthur. He smashed the flowers until they became a green mixture and added water from the water stream. Then he used his magic to ignite it and heat it up so that it mixed well together.

  


Once it was done, Kilgharrah nodded at him, letting him know that it was ready to be given to the prince.

  


“Thank you, Kilgharrah,” he smiled at the dragon and didn’t wait for a reply as he rushed back to Arthur with the warm mixture in his hand. He didn’t have any plates, or spoons or goblets with him, unfortunately, so his palm had to make do.

  


He knelt beside Arthur and checked his breathing again. It was faint, but he was still alive. Then he opened his mouth and grabbed the back of his neck, helping him to swallow the antidote that he slowly poured into his mouth.

  


Arthur coughed, but swallowed some of it, and then more as Merlin gave him the rest of it in his palm.

  


That was it.

  


He couldn’t do anything else to save Arthur’s life. He just had to hope that this worked. He kept watching Arthur, waiting for any sign of consciousness, of him being awake and alright, but nothing came. Kilgharrah kept watching both of them, waiting as well.

  


Merlin felt tears return to his eyes as he grew more desperate with each passing second.

  


And then Arthur coughed.

  


“Argh,” he groaned as he coughed again, his eyes opening slightly. Merlin let out a sob of happiness as he gently brushed Arthur’s hair away from his forehead. He wasn’t burning anymore, the fever was gone. “Ew, Merlin, what the hell did you cook?”

  


Merlin had to laugh. He turned to Kilgharrah to see that the dragon seemed to be also happy and he nodded at him with gratitude.

  


Kilgharrah nodded as well. “This is not the end of your journey, Merlin. You and the young Pendragon have much more to accomplish in your lives. Peace and prosperity in the lands of Albion will come.”

  


Merlin smiled at him again. “Thank you.”

  


Then the dragon spread his wings and flew away once more, this time staying far away and not returning unless Merlin called.

  


Merlin took a deep breath and looked back at Arthur, who just seemed confused.

  


“What on earth happened?” he asked when he saw Merlin was smiling down at him. “Merlin? Egh,” he cringed and wiped his mouth that was still dirty from blood and the antidote.

  


“You were poisoned by Kaunos’ dagger.” Merlin told him. “Do you remember?”

  


Arthur was silent for a moment, looking at his surroundings. “Right.” He mumbled. “Yes, I remember. Magic didn’t work.”

  


“No,” Merlin shook his head. “But we treated you naturally and it seemed to have worked.”

  


“I do feel better,” Arthur noted with his eyebrows raised.

  


Merlin frowned at him, still smiling. “Did you not expect that?”

  


Arthur pursed his lips and then looked up at Merlin hesitantly. “Well, when your magic didn’t work . . . and let’s be honest, you’re not the best physician-”

  


“A simple thank you would have been enough,” Merlin rolled his eyes, cutting Arthur off. But he couldn’t stop smiling.

  


Arthur was alive. _Saved_.

  


“Thanks,” he mumbled and searched for Merlin’s clean hand next to his. He entwined their fingers and just held his hand, breathing together with Merlin.

  


They stayed like that for several minutes, Merlin eventually making the invisible shield smaller again so that it contained only them. He was leaning against the same tree and just holding Arthur in his arms, hoping that this moment would never end, but knowing well that it had to.

  


They still had so much left to do.

  


For now though, they needed to rest.

  


“What about . . . “ Arthur swallowed and moved slightly to try and look at Merlin’s face. “What about the spell in the book that you wanted to do? Right before-”

  


“You want me to try it?” Merlin asked incredulously. To be honest, the spell was the last thing on his mind right now. He was still recovering from the feeling of almost losing Arthur again.

  


Arthur shrugged against the tree. “I want to see what it is.”

  


Merlin was quiet for a moment, just holding Arthur in his arms and squeezing his hand. Then he nodded. “Alright.”

  


He let go of Arthur, carefully so that he was still comfortably sat against the tree, and reached for his backpack. Inside it, he found one of Sigan’s spell books and he put it on the grass in front of them. “It’s not really a spell, it’s just . . . knowledge of what I can do.” He told him. When he glanced at Arthur, he still seemed curious and he nodded for Merlin to continue.

  


“I don’t know if we have time for this, but I can try it.” He smiled. Then he grabbed a stick and stood up, ”Wait a second,” he uttered as he ran to the stream of water. There he washed his hands and used the stick to dig a little hole into the ground and grabbed a handful of clay. It was a little wet from being so close to the water, but it wasn’t mud yet. It was perfect for what Merlin wanted to do.

  


He walked back to Arthur and looked at him with slight excitement in his eyes, but Arthur was just frowning in confusion now. Merlin then started squeezing the clay in his hands.

  


Then his eyes started shining gold and Merlin let go of the clay. It floated in the air in between his hands. Arthur watched him in wonder as Merlin started to move his hands around the ball of clay. Slowly, it started to change shape.

  


“What . . . “ Arthur breathed out. He was speechless. And to be honest, Merlin had no idea such a thing was possible, so he couldn’t quite believe it either.

  


He tried to shape the clay in the air with his magic until it looked like something. An animal. There was a head, a long body, four legs and a tail. Once it was done, Merlin whispered, “ _Hathian, forbaerne!”_ The little creature slowly turned red and then yellow as it was burning. When Merlin assumed it was enough, he stood up again and moved the clay in front of him as he walked towards the water stream. There he dropped it into the water, his eyes turning blue again. After a moment he knelt down next to the water stream and searched for the miniature statue. He took it out of the water and smiled at how nice it looked. It wasn’t hot anymore.

  


When he walked back to Arthur to the edge of the forest, he was holding the little clay statue in his hands, almost like made from ceramics.

  


“What the hell was that?” Arthur asked when Merlin returned to him.

  


Merlin just sat down next to Arthur again. He put it in Arthur’s hand to show it to him.

  


Arthur was frowning at it. “What on Earth is that?” He asked.

  


“It’s a horse,” he smiled at him.

  


Arthur didn’t stop frowning. “It looks more like a pig . . . “

  


“Shut up,” Merlin frowned.

  


Arthur smirked at him. “I’m the one who says shut up.” Merlin was glad that Arthur seemed to be feeling much better. The antidote was working wonders, and he didn’t seem to have been poisoned just an hour ago anymore. He seemed happy.

  


“Not anymore,” Merlin replied, now smirking himself. He remembered the same conversation from just before Merlin had to call Kilgharrah for help. Now, the situation wasn’t so serious anymore and they could joke like they always did. It was back. Their banter was definitely back and their relationship was fixed.

  


“And why’s that?” Arthur smirked at him, waiting for the same answer Merlin gave him before. That he was his boyfriend. He understood him, he like to hear it too.

  


“Because . . . Because we’re dating now,” there, Merlin said it again and it felt so good, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to date you?” he added just for laughs.

  


Arthur gave him such a beautiful smile before that smirk returned. “Do you even know what it’s like to date _you_ , _Mer_ lin?”

  


Merlin pursed his lips. “I know, it’s the best thing in the world.”

  


Arthur laughed at that. Then he closed his eyes tightly as he tried to sit up. When Merlin saw that, he immediately helped him and took the clay statue out of his hands, putting it next to his backpack. He held Arthur’s back as he sat, not leaning against the tree anymore. That was the moment Arthur reached towards Merlin’s waist and touched him in just the right way-

  


“Ahh!” Merlin laughed as he quickly pushed away from Arthur. He was ticklish! He stood up and made a few steps away from him, just laughing. But Arthur was trying to stand up as well, clearly wanting to chase him.

  


“Arthur, you should rest,” Merlin reminded him of the poison that was still inside his body, but Arthur clearly didn’t care.

  


“I’ll catch you, Merlin,” Arthur laughed as held the tree for support and managed to stand up. “Just let me hold you, I want to hold you,” he added with a plea in his eyes. And yes, Merlin took pity on him. He smiled and went back, taking Arthur’s arm and putting it around his shoulders, but in that moment Arthur turned around and wrapped both his arms around Merlin tightly.

  


This was . . . a hug. It was a hug.

  


Arthur was hugging Merlin.

  


Wow, that didn’t happen often, practically never.

  


Another benefit to dating Arthur.

  


Arthur just breathed into Merlin’s neck as he walked slowly away from the forest and into the meadow. Merlin held him tight, glad that he’d already helped Arthur wash his face from the antidote earlier.

  


After a moment, Merlin realized that they were dancing. The way they slowly moved together, chest to chest, arms around each other and their legs moving in sync.

  


It was a pleasant feeling.

  


Merlin had never danced before now and he was so glad that he could do that with Arthur. He practically melted against him, breathing in Arthur’s scent while still supporting half his weight and completely forgetting about their problems and everything that they still needed to do.

  


He moved with Arthur through the grass and squeezed him tight as they slowly turned around, facing the forest now.

  


Arthur then slowly leaned away from Merlin and their eyes locked. Merlin could see affection in Arthur’s and he was sure Arthur saw the same in his. Their lips naturally gravitated towards each other and they closed their eyes as they kissed.

  


Merlin kissed Arthur with all the love he held in his heart for the prince and he felt all the love that Arthur was giving him in return. It was like the kiss that had been so rudely interrupted by the falling wall.

  


He smiled into the kiss as they finally stopped walking and allowed Arthur to grab him tighter and slowly but surely try to bend him down, despite the fact that he was not strong enough to do that. The idea, probably, was to lie down into the grass and then continue from there, but they had no such luck.

  


Arthur stopped the kiss and pulled away slightly, looking at Merlin with worry in his eyes. When Merlin opened his eyes and saw his expression, he frowned. But soon he heard what caused the concern.

  


Hooves.

  


They heard many, many loud horses somewhere close.

  


“How big is the chance that those are just wild horses?” Arthur asked, still being held by Merlin and looking up into his eyes.

  


“Not big.”

  


“Yeah, I figured,” Arthur frowned.

  


Merlin turned Arthur in his arms and put one of his arms around his shoulders. It was time to get back to safety, to the invisible shield. He just hoped they could make it in time. As they started moving, now faster than before, Merlin realized that they didn’t have a chance.

  


Arthur was still too weak from the poison and although he was able to walk now, he could definitely not _run._

  


It was too late, the riders on the horses already saw them and sped up. Just in front of the forest and the invisible shield, Merlin and Arthur turned around to see them - they wore red cloaks.

  


“Knights of Camelot,” Arthur mumbled. “They found us.”

  


“Again,” Merlin added, making a mental note to explain that to Arthur later.

  


Merlin grabbed Arthur more tightly. As they entered the invisible shield, Merlin grabbed the little sculpture, his backpack and Arthur took the book. Together they moved as fast as they could into the forest - the knights couldn’t follow them on horses into the dense forest.

  


Together they slowly crossed the stream and started walking away, farther away from the meadow and from Camelot.

  


They heard the horses stop and the knights dismount. They would follow them on foot if they had to, they had orders to bring Arthur back and Merlin for the execution. They must have heard Kilgharrah the second time too and decided to return to check the meadow again, that’s why they were here.

  


Merlin regretted the dance now.

  


“Prince Arthur!” They heard someone yell. Merlin was pretty sure it was Sir Leon. He’s always been nice to him, but Merlin knew his orders and knew that neither he or his knights came in peace.

  


After mere minutes, they realized they weren’t fast enough to run anywhere. Not with Arthur still weak from the poison, and not having enough food and energy was slowing them down. Merlin was already out of breath, as well as Arthur and they weren’t even running.

  


Too late Merlin realized that they were heading towards the big rock and they wouldn’t be fast enough to walk around it. They’d have to stop. But they didn’t even have the chance to think about it because slowly, but surely, some of the knights had outrun them and stopped in front of them.

  


Merlin and Arthur halted, still holding each other, while the knights unsheathed their swords.

  


“Careful, the prince is enchanted!” One of the knights yelled at the others.

  


What the hell? Kaunos was right then. Did Uther always think Arthur was enchanted when he disobeyed him?

  


“I’m not enchanted!” Arthur frowned at them, still out of breath. Merlin felt Arthur’s weight against him as he squeezed him tightly. Merlin squeezed back. But Arthur’s words meant nothing to the knights, especially when he was holding a sorcerer and holding a book of magic in his hand.

  


“You’re both coming back to Camelot with us,” Leon said as he reached them. His and Merlin’s eyes met and then he looked at Arthur. He didn’t seem that convinced that Arthur was enchanted. “It’s the king’s orders.”

  


Merlin shook his head. He could not allow this to happen.

  


One of the knights reached out his sword towards him, but before he could do that, Merlin opened his mouth and yelled, “ _Astrice!_ ”

  


His eyes flashed gold and all the knights suddenly fell backwards, falling on the ground, unconscious. Arthur still held onto Merlin as Merlin breathed in and out deeply.

  


He’s just knocked out about twelve Camelot knights . . .

  


“So this is what you did with the bandits,” Arthur just shook his head. Merlin nodded. “We need to go before they wake up.”

  


“Wait,” Merlin said as he looked at all of them just lying there, and added, “if they wake up, they’ll remember everything. I need to make them forget.”

  


Arthur understood. “Then do it, but quickly.”

  


Merlin slowly walked Arthur towards the nearest tree and left him there, putting the book and the statue into his backpack and the backpack on his back. Then he reached out his hands around him and tried to concentrate. “ _Gedeowie dæt mod disse ricea! Abricaþ ond forgietan heora ingemynd, min gúdæda innan dægrím!”_

  


The knights all stirred, but Merlin didn’t know if that was a sign of the spell working or them waking up. He quickly turned to Arthur and said, “Now let’s go.”

  


_Emrys!_

  


Merlin stopped and frowned, looking around. He felt like he just heard something, _someone._ But the knights were all still lying on the ground. Merlin dismissed it and returned to Arthur.

  


They held each other again as they walked back towards the water stream. They crossed it and continued to the edge of the forest. When they arrived there, they found twelve horses standing next to each other, some of them tied to a tree, some of them not. A few of them seemed be cut in half and only standing on their front legs.

  


“What the hell is that?” Arthur asked.

  


“It must be the invisible shield that I used to protect you,” Merlin realized. Some of the horses must have been half inside it and half out, making them look like their other half didn’t exist. “It’s what protected us when the knights found us the first time.”

  


“Is that what you meant when you said that they found us again?” Arthur asked.

  


Merlin nodded. “You were unconscious,” he added.

  


Merlin then reached out his hand and destroyed the shield, making the horses appear whole again. They neighed at him.

  


“I think we just found a gold mine,” Arthur smiled as they neared the horses together.

  


He was right. Each of the horses had a saddle bag filled with food that they needed. Besides, all the horses knew Arthur and Merlin and weren’t afraid of them, so they just opened one of the saddle bags and found apples for the knights and horses, more dried meat, waterskin and cheese.

  


Merlin looked at his already heavy backpack and shook his head. “We can just take the horse,” he said.

  


“That would be useful, we could return to Camelot before the sun sets,” Arthur shielded his eyes as he looked at the sun on the sky. They had a few more hours of daylight left. “Alright,” he nodded as they untied one of the horses from the tree.

  


Then they tied the free horses to other trees so that they wouldn’t run away before the knights woke up again - once they woke up they wouldn’t remember anything after all.

  


Merlin then also used magic to get rid of the pile of soil on the meadow that Kilgharrah had brought there from Kent. He couldn’t risk the knights remembering anything. Once the sand was gone together with the stone with some of the antidote left on it, he walked to the horse that they had untied, Arthur following.

  


First Merlin helped Arthur to mount the horse, which proved to be somewhat difficult, but he managed. Merlin then opened his backpack and pulled out the little horse made of clay. He handed it to Arthur. “I want you to have it.” He smiled up at him.

  


“Why?” Arthur asked.

  


Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know, I just want you to have it. It can remind you of me,” he smiled.

  


Arthur took the horse and smiled. Then he smirked. “You’re saying a statue of a _pig_ can remind me of yo-”

  


Merlin punched his leg slightly. “It’s a _horse_ , you clotpole.”

  


Arthur laughed at that insult. “Come on,” he put the little horse into his pocket and offered his hand to Merlin. Merlin took it and put his foot into the stirrup, another hand on the back of the saddle and pulled himself up, throwing his leg over the horse. Now he was sitting behind Arthur, who controlled the horse. At first he had argued that it would be better for him to control the horse and Arthur would sit behind him and relax, but Arthur had told him that there was no way he was sitting outside the saddle and falling down from the horse. Merlin had rolled his eyes at that and eventually had agreed to sit behind Arthur then. The prince did seem to have some of his energy back.

  


Merlin then adjusted the backpack on his back and hugged Arthur tightly from behind.

  


“Ready?”

  


“Ready,” Merlin nodded and they set off. They galloped away from the other horses and the knights, riding to where the knights had appeared from the first time.

  


In the direction of Camelot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They travelled for another few hours and the sun was almost setting again before they arrived close to Camelot. They stopped two times and ate the apples, more dried meat and the cheese, and now they were full of energy and prepared for the spell.

  


Well, Merlin was. Arthur was prepared to watch him.

  


Arthur stopped the horse close to a cliff on the road to Camelot. It was the same spot that Merlin stood at when he watched the castle for what he thought would be the last time.

  


The view was perfect.

  


Merlin smiled as he jumped off the horse and helped Arthur dismount right after him. “This is where I’ll do the spell, I can see the whole of Camelot from here.”

  


Arthur nodded. “We should hurry up,” he said as he went to tie the horse to one of the trees. After the ride and not having to walk for a while, he wasn’t tired or weak anymore. At least now he was able to walk on his own without Merlin supporting him.

  


Merlin took a deep breath as Arthur removed the backpack from Merlin’s back. He put it next to the tree that he’d tied the horse to and then he took Merlin’s hands gently, pulling him closer. Merlin let himself fall into Arthur’s arms as Arthur hugged him tightly and then pulled him away just slightly to kiss his lips.

  


Merlin felt blessed in Arthur’s arms. Before they hugged on the meadow, he’d never been enveloped in a warm hug like that, to be honest he hadn’t thought Arthur was capable of such a thing. But Arthur was the best at giving hugs. Merlin rubbed his hands over Arthur’s back as he squeezed him, not needing to support his weight anymore.

  


After a moment they parted, both smiling and still so close. “What was that for?” Merlin asked.

  


“For good luck,” he smiled.

  


Merlin smirked. “I think I’ll need more of that,” he whispered as he closed the distance between them once again and kissed Arthur. His Arthur, his prince. His _future._

  


Suddenly they heard someone clapping, which ruined their moment completely.

  


They immediately let go of each other and turned around to see . . .

  


_Kaunos_.

  


“What the hell?” Arthur yelled. “How are you even here?”

  


“Obviously,” Kaunos dismounted his horse, “I have a horse,” he told them as he tied it to a nearby tree. Then he turned to them just as Arthur unsheathed his sword again.

  


Kaunos ignored him and looked at Merlin. “I know what you’re wondering Emrys,” he smirked. Then he made a confused face to imitate him. “Oh no, how come my spell didn’t work?”

  


He was right, that was exactly what Merlin was wondering. But he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Instead he reached out his hands and yelled, “ _astrice_!”

  


Kaunos laughed a bit, “Oh no,” but he didn’t move an inch.

  


Merlin let his hands fall as he frowned. “What? How?” He didn’t understand. Why didn’t his magic work on him? Did the spell even work on the knights? What if they still remembered everything and were already on their way here?

  


“Now, what I wonder, is how the hell did you manage to survive, Prince Arthur,” he mockingly bowed to Arthur as he looked at him.

  


Merlin frowned. “How did you make the poison?” he asked. Because the only explanation he could think of was that Kaunos was a sorcerer and had magic, which sounded ridiculous given the fact that he was also a witchfinder.

  


Kaunos smiled. “I know a trick or two,” he smirked at them. “It’s how I found you near the ruined castle.”

  


“What did you plan to achieve?” Arthur asked his own question, his sword still pointing at Kaunos. “How would you even explain that to my father? That you murdered the prince?!”

  


“Emrys is nothing without the Once and Future King. It’s simple, really.” He shrugged. “I told you, you were a necessary sacrifice, but I guess,” he looked at Merlin again, “I must have underestimated you, Emrys.”

  


Arthur didn’t wait for him to say more, he prepared his sword and once again strode over to Kaunos - Merlin worried whether Arthur was strong enough to fight him after just recovering from being poisoned, but apparently he couldn’t help him with his magic, it was useless. And this time, Kaunos had a sword of his own. He must have found the knights and their horses, it was obviously a sword from Camelot.

  


“Come on, Merlin, aren’t _you_ going to fight me? The big famous sorcerer? Or are you too weak?” He laughed as he blocked Arthur’s hits, one after another.

  


Where the hell did he learn to fight like that?

  


Merlin gritted his teeth. Why wasn’t his magic working on him? Was it useless?

  


“Emrys, I’m waiting!” He heard his mocking.

  


Merlin frowned at him as he neared them. Maybe he just needed to try to use stronger magic. Arthur and Kaunos were fighting close to each other, but Merlin could try to hit only Kaunos.

  


“Merlin, do it!” he heard Arthur. “You won’t hit me, I trust you!”

  


That was something that Merlin needed to hear. Arthur _trusted_ him, he did!

  


Anger and desperation clouded Merlin’s mind as he reached out his hands once again. His eyes were shining gold as he yelled, “ _Astrice_!”

  


But _nothing_ happened.

  


“Is that all you’ve got?” Kaunos laughed.

  


“Argh!” Arthur growled at him as he hit him with his sword again and again. He kicked his leg and Kaunos fell to the ground, but he cleverly and quickly turned around just in time to block Arthur’s next blow. Arthur wasn’t strong enough to beat him, normally he’d be already done with Kaunos.

  


Merlin had to do something.

  


He closed his eyes and reached out his hands at Kaunos. It was now or never. “ _Gedeowie dæt mod disse mannes! Abricaþ ond forgietan heora ingemynd, min gúdæda innan dægrím!”_

  


He yelled. He felt a wave of magic leave him, directed right at Kaunos, when suddenly he turned away and kicked Arthur right in the direction of the spell.

  


“No!” Merlin shouted, but it was no help. Arthur fell to the ground, unconscious. “No! Arthur!”

  


“I’m here to kill you myself, Emrys!” Kaunos smiled at him.

  


Merlin’s eyes widened. He couldn’t use his magic, he didn’t have _anything_. What was he going to do?

  


He looked at Arthur and silently apologized. Then he noticed his sword was lying next to him. He knew that Kaunos saw him notice it.

  


Merlin quickly ran towards the sword and grabbed it just in time to block Kaunos’ first attack. Their swords clashed together, Merlin barely managing to hold it tightly. Barely managing to keep himself alive.

  


“Don’t worry about the handcuffs,” Kaunos told him with malice in his eyes. “You’ve already destroyed them, just like you’ll destroy the world!”

  


_What the hell?_

  


Merlin’s hands were becoming weak as he quickly ducked away from under the sword and moved away from Kaunos. He followed him and used his sword again. Merlin blocked the attack and then another, but he couldn’t hold on for much longer.

  


Kaunos kicked him in the shin and Merlin cried out in pain, but still held the sword as he fell down to his knees.

  


Kaunos was now above him, with advantage in strength.

  


“I can see it in your eyes,” he smiled at him, venom in his voice. His smile was full of teeth, disgusting, _evil_. “You’re wondering. Head full of questions. Why didn’t my spell work?” He laughed when he saw Merlin’s eyes were desperate now, wide. Did he fail? “It isn’t you,” he told him. “It’s me. I’m better than you and everyone else with magic. You’re corrupted, Emrys!”

  


“That’s not true,” Merlin breathed out weakly through his gritted teeth. He was going to die, wasn’t he?

  


Kaunos ignored him. “You’ll die weak, without your magic.”

  


Merlin feared he was right. That these were his last moments. After all, what was he without his magic?

  


“Just! Let! Go!” The witchfinder hissed at him, with each word letting more of his weight fall down on his sword, pushing Merlin into the ground.

  


With the last word, something caught Merlin’s attention. Something glistened around Kaunos’ neck. As he was pushing Merlin closer and closer to the ground, it fell out of his collar - a necklace. Merlin glanced at it and saw that it was full of symbols that held magical power.

  


This had to be it! The reason his magic didn’t work!

  


Kaunos’s smile turned into a grin as Merlin was losing his strength, drops of sweat forming on his forehead. But Merlin had one last hope. He risked letting go of the sword with one hand and moved away as Kaunos’ sword pierced the ground right next to Merlin’s head.

  


Merlin then reached his free hand and pulled at the necklace, yanking it and snapping it in half.

  


“No!” Kaunos yelled.

  


He pulled out his sword from the ground, but Merlin immediately reached out his hand and yelled, “ _Astrice!”_

  


Kaunos touched his bare neck and managed to spot the necklace in Merlin’s hand just before the spell lifted him off the ground and threw across the road. He landed on his back, not moving.

  


Merlin gasped for air as he fell to his knees.

  


He felt exhausted, _utterly_ exhausted. But he wasn’t done yet. He wasn’t finished.

  


He took deep breaths and when his heart finally calmed down a bit, he looked at Arthur. He was still lying there, on the ground. Merlin slowly crawled over to him and looked at him.

  


His face was peaceful. But his mind was blank. There were no longer any memories of what had happened between them in the castle or what they had to live through together after Merlin had run away. There was none of that.

  


It was all gone.

  


Lost.

  


Merlin felt hot tears in his eyes as he realized what that meant. Arthur didn’t know about his magic. He didn’t know about him being a dragonlord, he didn’t even know that Merlin loved him.

  


He _hadn’t_ even told him he loved him.

  


Merlin sobbed as he touched Arthur’s emotionless face. A tear landed on Arthur’s cheek and Merlin brushed it away with his thumb and then wiped the rest of his tears with his sleeve.

  


What has he done? What had Kaunos made him do?

  


Was their story over now?

  


After a moment of collecting himself, Merlin took a deep breath again and kissed Arthur. His lips were so . . . _motionless_. Then he stood up again and walked over to Kaunos with a frown.

  


_Emrys._

  


He quickly turned around in confusion. It sounded like . . . No, he had to finish this. He turned back to Kaunos with a frown and knelt down next to him.

  


He placed his palm on his forehead and took a deep breath. This man deserved losing his memory. None of the people in Camelot did, but Kaunos, he deserved it. Merlin closed his eyes tightly and began with the spell. “ _Gedeowie dæt mod disse mannes! Abricaþ ond forgietan heora ingemynd, min gúdæda!”_

  


When it was done, he put away his hand and brushed it off on his jacket. He frowned at Kaunos again and left him there, walking over to Arthur again and sitting down next to him, holding his hand in his.

  


He couldn’t believe this happened. How long would they stay unconscious? Would there be at least something that Arthur would remember? A faint memory of _them_?

  


_Emrys!_

  


He heard someone call his name again. Merlin frowned and this time finally looked around, searching for anyone, anything. After a moment, he heard footsteps. He brushed away his tears again and stood up, prepared to face the knights.

  


But it was the druids that came from the woods.

  


“Emrys,” one of them spoke.

  


Merlin frowned at them in confusion. There was about five of them, all grown men in brown clothes. He’s never seen any of them, he’d remember their faces. But what were druids doing so close to Camelot?

  


“We’re here for him,” one of them pointed to Kaunos lying on the ground, as if answering Merlin’s question.

  


“You’re here to take him away?” Merlin asked, frowning despite his tears being still apparent on his cheeks.

  


Why would the druids do that? Why would they want Kaunos?

  


“Sophian has grown up among us, Emrys.”

  


Wait, _Sophian_? Since when was Kaunos’ name Sophian? “I think you’ve got the wrong name?”

  


The druids all shook their heads in unison. “Let us take him with us. We can teach him new ways. Better ways.”

  


“But he _hates_ magic, he’ll expose you to the king,” Merlin protested. They would all die if they let Kaunos- or _Sophian_ , or whatever was his name, go with them.

  


One of the druids made a step towards him and looked into his teary eyes. “The magic you used was strong, Emrys. Yet it was not stronger than what you need to use now. You’ve erased all of Sophian’s memories. He won’t remember who he is or where he came from and therefore we can shape him into a better man. Let him go with us and then you can finish your spell.”

  


_What?_ “Kaunos . . . “ Merlin looked at him. “He doesn’t remember _anything_?”

  


The leader of the druids shook his head.

  


Merlin looked at Kaunos again. He was just lying there, all the malice gone from his eyes, his expression soft, without any evil in it. Did he deserve a second chance? Merlin already had a chance to let Arthur kill him one time, yet he didn’t. But did he actually deserve it?

  


Merlin didn’t know that. But it wasn’t his decision to make.

  


He nodded at the druids and four of them stepped forward, gathering Kaunos in their arms.

  


“Thank you, Emrys,” one of them said. Then they all turned away.

  


“Wait!” Merlin stopped them. When they looked at him, he found himself tearing up again. “And what about Arthur? Will he remember who he is?”

  


The druids simply nodded. “There is much more for you and the Once and Future King in the future Emrys, and though this may seem like the end, it is the beginning.”

  


Then they turned away and disappeared into the forest, together with Kaunos.

  


Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. This was _ridiculous_. All of this was ridiculous, it must have been a dream. Or a nightmare.

  


When he opened his eyes again, Arthur was still lying on the ground, unconscious. He was lying there because of him. He . . . He _trusted_ him and this is what Merlin did to him?

  


A sob escaped him as he turned away from the prince and covered his face in his palms. He didn’t have a choice but to be strong now though. He had to do the spell. They were still in danger.

  


Slowly he kissed Arthur’s cheek and stood up. He made his way to the edge of the cliff, looking at the castle of Camelot. He couldn’t see the citizens, he was too far away. And they couldn’t see him. But they knew who he was.

  


They knew him.

  


They hated him.

  


They feared him.

  


They wanted him _dead_.

  


Everyone except Gwen and Gaius. They were probably worried for him.

  


Merlin silently apologized to them as he opened his arms and took a deep breath. This was it. The moment that would change his future and turn everything back to normal. Except - he glanced at Arthur’s lifeless form behind him - there were things that he didn’t want to go back to normal.

  


Maybe he would come up with a solution later. Now he had to act before Arthur woke up.

  


The sun was already setting behind the trees.

  


Merlin wondered what it would feel like to the citizens. Would they blink and suddenly forget everything about the last week, not even noticing? Would they walk into a room only to forget why they walked in there in the first place? Would they _feel_ it?

  


They would probably all faint just like Arthur and Kaunos did.

  


Merlin hoped nobody would hurt themselves or wonder for too long why they were unconscious.

  


Once again he looked at the castle - the place he grew to love and call home - and he allowed his eyes to close.

  


“ _Gedeowie dæt mod disse ricea!”_ He yelled. His voice was strong and deep. “ _Abricaþ ond forgietan heora ingemynd, min gúdæda innan dægrím!”_

  


His eyes flashed gold just like the setting sun next to him.

  


His arms fell close to his body and his eyes closed on their own.

  


_Exhausted._

  


The last thing he remembered before his body hit the ground, was the feeling of falling, and then sweet, _sweet_ nothingness.

 

 

  

 

 

 

Arthur dreamt. That didn’t happen often.

  


He dreamt of hands and soft lips and gold eyes . . .

  


But the dream faded out of his mind even before he finally woke up.

  


He groaned. Everything . . . _hurt_. Why was he hurting all over? The ground was hard — he wasn’t in his bed, he wasn’t in Camelot, he was in the forest. Arthur’s eyes snapped open as he was so often used to doing in case of danger.

  


But there was no danger, only darkness all around. He heard a horse somewhere behind him.

  


Arthur sat up and touched his head. “Ah,” he moaned in pain. His head hurt like hell. Then he looked around.

  


What the hell was he doing in the woods? At night?

  


He saw something glistening a few feet away from him and noticed that it was a sword. Actually, two swords.

  


What. The. Hell?

  


Now he noticed there were actually two horses. One was obviously his, the other- “Merlin?” he quickly called his servant’s name, but he couldn’t hear him. He stood up and almost fell down again as his head was spinning, but he regained his balance and rubbed his eyes to let them adjust to the darkness around.

  


Then he saw him. “Merlin!”

  


His friend was lying on the ground close to a cliff, almost falling off it. What on Earth had happened here?

  


Arthur quickly secured Merlin with his arms so he wouldn’t fall down and shook him. Merlin was not responding, but he was breathing.

  


Was he asleep?

  


Arthur stared at him for a moment, at his soft sleeping face. He didn’t get to see this often, Merlin always saw his sleeping face in the morning together with his horrible bedhead, but he never saw Merlin.

  


After a sigh, Arthur shook Merlin’s shoulders again.

  


This time Merlin stirred and slowly opened his eyes, staring at him in the dark. “Rise and shine,” Arthur frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

  


“Arthur?” Merlin mumbled as he frowned at him in confusion. Then he grabbed his head and groaned. Arthur let go of him and stood up, folding his arms on his chest impatiently.

  


“What happened?” he asked.

  


Merlin sat up and blinked at him in the darkness. When he realized how close he was to the cliff, he moved away from there and tried to stand up, but almost fell. Arthur caught his arm, but let go again once Merlin was standing on his own.

  


“I’ll repeat this only once, Merlin. What the hell happened?”

  


Merlin looked around in the darkness, still holding his head. “I don’t . . . I don’t know,” he shrugged. Then he closed his eyes tightly, “we were . . . on a trip . . . “

  


Arthur rolled his eyes. “Are you telling me we were on a hunting trip and what, just fell asleep here on the ground?”

  


“Well, it’s not that hard around here and there’s actually some soft moss over there and-”

  


“ _Mer_ lin!”

  


“I don’t know!” Merlin shrugged at him. “Why would I know? Why would it be my fault?”

  


“Because, _Mer_ lin, whenever we find ourselves in such strange and troublesome situations, it usually _is_ your fault!”

  


“And you’re a prat!” was all that Merlin could come up with.

  


Arthur just threw his arms up in the air as he gave up and rolled his eyes, turning away from him. “We were on a hunting trip, _obviously_ ,” he mumbled in a mocking voice as he picked up both swords and headed for his horse that was tied to a tree. There was a backpack lying near it. It was definitely Merlin’s.

  


Arthur picked it up. “Oh my god, what the hell are you carrying in this thing?” He turned to Merlin as he threw the heavy backpack at him.

  


Merlin managed to catch it, frowning at it. Then he looked around at the two horses, the dark castle in the distance and back at the backpack. He gasped and grabbed his head again.

  


“What is it?” Arthur asked, now a little bit worried. Not that he’d even admit it.

  


Merlin swallowed as he looked around one more time. Then he shook his head and shrugged. “Nothing, my head hurts.”

  


Arthur just rolled his eyes again and untied his horse from the tree. He frowned when he realized it wasn’t _his_ horse. The stable boy apparently gave him the wrong one again. Arthur just couldn’t figure out why he didn’t remember it.

  


“We need to return to the castle, come on,” he called Merlin as he mounted his horse.

  


Merlin nodded, “Yes, sire,” he mumbled and ran up to the other horse. He stopped mid-way and picked something up from the ground. Only then did he continue on to the other horse. Once he mounted as well, Arthur led the way and rode back to Camelot.

  


This was so strange . . .

  


Were they drinking? That was the only explanation that Arthur could think of to be honest, and yet it seemed unlikely.

  


After a while, he felt something in his pocket. He reached into it and pulled out a strange object. He couldn’t identify it in the dark, but it looked like it was made of clay and it looked . . . sort of like pig with long head and legs.

  


Arthur frowned at it, as if it was supposed to mean something to him, but then he dismissed it and shoved it back into his pocket.

  


What a _weird_ day.

 

 

  

 

 

Merlin let go of his head as he mounted the horse with the heavy backpack on his back. Then he kicked Kaunos’ horse and set off after Arthur, Kaunos’ magical necklace still in his hands - he’d noticed it on the ground and quickly picked up before Arthur could see it too.

  


It had taken him a while to remember what happened after he’d woken up, but once he saw and felt the backpack in his hands, everything had come back to him. The letter, his running away, the _execution_ , Kilgharrah, the poison . . . The night they spent together in the castle.

  


And the final fight. He remembered how he hit Arthur with the spell, erasing his memory. He’d promised him that wouldn’t happen.

  


Arthur had said he _trusted_ him.

  


And Merlin failed him. Again and again, he _failed_ him.

  


Merlin swallowed and brushed away the tears forming in his eyes. It was over. If Arthur had forgotten about the events of the past week, then the entire city of Camelot must have forgotten too. As well as the knights. They probably hadn’t returned to Camelot yet, but they would. And they wouldn’t remember why they were away from the castle.

  


No one would remember what’s happened. The execution was now erased from everyone’s minds.

  


Merlin almost wished it could be erased form his own mind as well.

  


He feared he’d get nightmares again. The only reason he didn’t have a nightmare last night was because Arthur was holding him the entire time. _That_ wouldn’t happen again.

  


Not unless he figured out how to make Arthur remember.

  


They continued on their way to Camelot until they finally reached the Lower Town and the citadel. Merlin felt anxiety build up in him as they rode through the main gate into the courtyard, but no one bat an eye at him and the pyre had been long gone.

  


They could definitely recognize him in the darkness, but everything was how it used to be. No one was unconscious.

  


Calm evening inside the walls of Camelot.

  


People slowly going home, some knights still on patrol.

  


They dismounted and led their horses to the stables. A stable boy took them and led them inside, but while Arthur started to walk away, Merlin stayed. He needed to do something.

  


“Good night, Arthur!” he called at him just before Arthur was too far away from him. The prince turned to look at him, clearly confused, but then he nodded and disappeared inside the castle.

  


_Good night, Merlin_.

  


Merlin could still hear Arthur’s response from the previous night. He sighed and went inside the stables. There he found Arthur’s saddle from before the execution when the prince had gone to search for him. He opened the saddlebag and just like he had thought, he found his _letter._

  


The only proof that this week ever happened.

  


Once it was inside his pocket, Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. With a heartbroken expression he slowly walked up the stairs into the tower where his and Gaius’ quarters were located.

  


The old man welcomed him with open arms. He didn’t know what happened, but Merlin couldn’t hold that grief and guilt in any longer.

  


As Gaius held him tight, Merlin wrapped his arms around him and held him tighter.

  


Just a few seconds later, he started openly sobbing into Gaius’ chest.

  


And Gaius held him. He held his boy.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact. Hogwart was a medicinal herb used by Alice in the episode 3x09 Love in the Time of Dragons. According to wikipedia, it grows in dry, open areas, especially sandy and rocky soils. I found one such place in England, it’s in Kent, it’s called Dungeness and it’s often called England’s only desert. Then I used the Map of Albion here on AO3 to try to guess the distance, and I think from where Merlin and Arthur are according to the official BBC Camelot map, it would take about 8 days on foot to get to the South of Kent. (Yeah, I spent a lot of time on this fanfic...)
> 
>  
> 
> **SPELLS**
> 
>  - _"Gedeowie dæt mod disse ricea! Abricaþ ond forgietan heora ingemynd, min gúdæda innan dægrím!"_ \- This is my own spell, and it should mean "Tame the mind of these people! Destroy and forget their memory, my deeds done in the past, in the number of days!" Yeah, it took a while to make. If you're interested, this is how I did it: _"Gedeowie dæt mod disse..._ is from 4x04 The Servant of Two Masters. It was used by Morgana when she used the Fomorroh against Merlin. It means "tame the spirit of this". Then I had to use the oldenglishtranslator.co.uk - > In the original spell I used the word _"ricea"_ which means "of people" (which is the second grammatical case from the word _"ríce"_ , which means "the people inhabiting a district a nation". In this chapter though, Merlin was using the spell only on Kaunos and no other people, so I replaced _"ricea"_ with the word _"mannes"_ , which is the second case from "singular man". The word _"Abricaþ"_ means break/destroy and it was used by Merlin when he tried to break his chains in 3x01 The Tears of Uther Pendragon Part One. _"Ond"_ means "and", _"forgietan"_ means "to forget", _"heora"_ means "their" and it was used by Morgause in 3x12 The Coming of Arthur Part Two (it was a part of a longer spell). Another word is _"ingemynd"_ which according to the oldenglishtranslator.co.uk means "recollection, memory, mind, remembrance". _"Min"_ means "my", _"gúdæda"_ means "deed done in the past" (used in the 4. case, plural - oldenglishtranslator). _"Innan"_ means "in" and the last word _"dægrím"_ means "a number of days" (again used in the 4. case, plural). I was trying to indicate that Merlin only wanted to erase the memories of the last week, not all memories. (Btw I use grammatical cases because they were a thing in the Old English and they're still a thing in my language - we've got 7 of them.)
> 
> \- _“Purhhaele licsar min”_ \- It means "heal thoroughly my body wound" and it was used by Gilli in 3x11 The Sorcerer’s Shadow - I replaced _"min"_ with _"thin"_ which means "your" instead of "my", so that Merlin can heal Arthur and not himself.
> 
> \- _"Wel cene hole!"_ \- This spell was used in 3x05 The Crystal Cave by Taliesin to heal Arthur’s arrow injury on his back. It means “do good to the perforation.”
> 
> \- _"Bot ond tile!"_ \- From 3x12 The Coming of Arthur Part One. The druids used this on dead Leon to resurrect him with the cup of life. I only used the last sentence of the spell. The original spell is _“Butan þæt cwalu. Hrðe þon aidlian. Hrðe þon eðian. Bot ond tile.” And it means ”Out of a violent death. Quickly make it no longer useless. Quickly breathe now. Help him and cure him.” I only used “help him and cure him” because Merlin didn’t have a cup of life and Arthur wasn’t dead yet._
> 
> \- _"Efencume... ætgædre, eala gastas cræft ige: gestrice þis lic forod!"_ \- It was used by Merlin disguised as Dragoon in 4x03 The Wicked Day when he healed Uther but failed because of Morgana’s necklace. It means “Oh, spirits, assemble together your skill: mend this broken body.”
> 
> \- _"Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare!"_ \- This was used by Merlin to heal Arthur and the knights in 4x04 Aithusa when they were poisoned by the soup. It means “I heal you thoroughly from your mortal wound!”
> 
> \- _“Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!"_ \- This is one of the most powerful spells ever cast. It was given to Merlin by Kilgharrah in 3x05 The Crystal Cave when Morgana was injured in the head and Merlin wanted to heal her. It means “I heal you thoroughly from your mortal wound with those special powers that are ancient! Oh!”
> 
> \- _"Hathian"_ \- It means "become hot" and was used by Merlin against the enemy in 1x10 The Moment of Truth, when his swordr became too hot to hold in his hand and he was forced to drop it.
> 
> \- _"Forbaerne!"_ \- It means "burn up" and was used by Nimueh in 1x13 Le Morte d’Arthur, against Merlin as she made a fireball.
> 
>  - _“Astrice!"_ \- It was used in 2x12 The Fire of Idirsholas for example and it means "I strike"


	11. The Memories

**ONE MONTH LATER**

  


Merlin woke up with a headache. Another dreamless night, and another hard day awaiting him. He’d been studying the spell books of Cornelius Sigan for weeks now, almost mastering every spell in them, but still finding no solution to everything that’s happened.

  


Camelot was . . . still the _same._

  


Gaius, Gwen and Arthur remembered nothing that had happened and nor did anyone in Camelot, not even Uther. The only thing he seemed to remember was the invitation he'd sent to the witchfinder, but no one arrived and no one would ever arrive. Witchfinders were rare, especially after news spread of what had happened to Aredian.

  


Only Gaius _knew_ what happened because Merlin had told him all about it while crying.

  


“ _Never underestimate the power of love,”_ Gaius had told him then, “ _I’ve seen it change many things.”_

  


It was hard to keep up hope though.

  


Even with all the books from Kaunos’ chambers that Merlin and Gaius had collected and hidden in their chambers, even with his old spell book, Sigan’s two spell books and Kilgharrah’s help, the answer was still the same.

  


The spell was irreversible.

  


The spell book said so itself, right under the incantation. But Merlin refused to believe it. There had to be another spell that somehow restored the memories that were once lost.

  


And yes, there were such spells. But none of them worked on memories previously lost by _magic._

  


Merlin closed his eyes tightly as he thought about all of that. These thoughts swirled through his head every morning and evening, every time he saw Arthur’s oblivious smile, every time he walked across the courtyard and thought he saw the pyre there, wincing.

  


It was everywhere around him.

  


All his magic, and yet he couldn’t give Arthur what he needed. What they both needed.

  


Yes, he could have told Arthur just like he told Gaius about what’s happened. But he didn’t do that. He didn’t want to go through all of the anger and hurt in his eyes again when they’ve already overcome that together. He didn’t tell him he was in love with him either. Arthur deserved to remember what had happened between them. Telling him now without Arthur knowing what had happened felt wrong.

  


Merlin took those memories. He robbed Arthur of them and he didn’t know how to fix that.

  


He was a failure.

  


He sighed into the pillow and finally sat up. His head still hurt. He knew he should be getting more sleep, but he couldn’t sleep with all the nightmares. When he didn’t have them, he didn’t dream at all. And when he woke up screaming, he couldn’t fall asleep again.

  


That’s why he was always so tired.

  


Merlin stood up and put on his two warmest tunics together with his neckerchief and jacket and warm trousers. It was snowing in Camelot now, and very, _very_ cold.

  


He missed the night with Arthur in Sigan’s castle. He felt so _warm_ and _loved_ then.

  


Now he only felt alone and miserable.

  


He opened his little door and entered the physician’s quarters.

  


“Good morning,” Gaius greeted him.

  


“Is any morning ever good?” He sighed and Gaius frowned at him. He’d been trying to cheer him up for the past month, and now Merlin just felt ungrateful. “Sorry.”

  


“It’s alright,” Gaius told him as he pointed to the table. “I’ve prepared some breakfast for you. Make sure you eat it.”

  


“Thank you,” Merlin replied. He hasn’t been eating much, he knew that.

  


“Merlin,” Gaius called him. “I mean it, I want that breakfast off the plate before you go.”

  


Merlin sighed and sat down to the table. But he was grateful for Gaius making sure he ate. He needed to be strong to study all the books again and perfect all the spells that he’s already learned from Sigan’s books.

  


He ate the cheese and bread, and finally left the chambers, leaving Gaius to his potions.

  


With every step down the stairs, his burden felt heavier and heavier. As he walked across the courtyard, he had to keep his eyes closed as much as possible. He knew he might see the pyre again for a second. Sometimes he heard Uther’s voice and winced, remembering his speech before his execution.

  


He remembered the feeling of being trapped in the dungeons. When they took him to the courtyard in the cage. The pain and tightness around his wrists.

  


But almost all details were lost to him now. He was glad that he couldn’t remember more. He wouldn’t be able to bear it, he barely managed it now.

  


Merlin headed to the kitchen for Arthur’s breakfast, when he met Gwen on her way there. She smiled at him already from far away, but the smile that he returned was faint, almost not there at all.

  


Their paths slowly merged and they walked next to each other. Gwen must have noticed the change in him in the past month because she was silent for a moment before she finally spoke.

  


“How are you?”

  


It was a simple question, but it had a very complicated answer. He didn’t want to scare Gwen with “ _I feel like I could die right now and I wouldn’t even mind_ ,” so he shrugged slightly and replied with “I’m fine.”

  


She was silent for a few seconds. Then she bit her lower lip and finally glanced up at Merlin. “Merlin, can I be honest with you?”

  


“Of course you can,” Merlin frowned slightly in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

  


“It’s just . . . “ Gwen looked away from him and then finally back at him. “You don’t seem _fine_ lately.”

  


Merlin closed his eyes tightly with regret. He should tell Gwen. When he opened his mouth though, “I’m fine,” came out.

  


“Okay.”

  


There was a pause and neither of them talked, both of them knowing that was a blatant lie.

  


Merlin couldn’t lie to Gwen. She was fine with his magic when she found out and went to visit him in the dungeons. She was there too, right? He didn’t just imagine it?

  


“Gwen, look,” he stopped and gently took her arm. She stopped and looked at him curiously and with worry in her eyes, and Merlin let go of her forearm. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong, I will, I promise, I just . . . I _can’t_ right now. Not now.”

  


Gwen smiled at him reassuringly. She has always been so kind and understanding that it almost made Merlin want to cry again. She deserved more from him than this broken shell of his former self. A liar.

  


“It’s okay,” she smiled at him. “I’ll wait. Whenever you’re ready.”

  


Merlin nodded and finally smiled back. “Thank you.”

  


Gwen nodded as well and then they started walking again, finally reaching the royal kitchen. Gwen walked away for an apron - Merlin knew she helped out wherever she could in the castle - and Merlin headed for Arthur’s breakfast.

  


He found the prepared tray of food and took it, glancing at Gwen once more as she worked with the dough for bread before he left, going up the stairs and many halls before he finally reached Arthur’s chambers.

  


When he found himself in front of Arthur’s rooms, he took a deep breath. Then he pushed the door open with his knee and finally entered.

  


Arthur was already up. Which normally would be unusual but was quite often for the past month.

  


“Ah, Merlin,” Arthur smiled at him.

  


Merlin didn’t return the smile and looked down, setting the tray on the table. “Your breakfast, sire,” he informed him.

  


He didn’t want to act on his feelings until he didn’t have the advantage of knowing what had already happened. So he held back as much as he could. He knew Arthur had noticed, but he rarely said anything.

  


Today wasn’t that day.

  


“Oh come on, I haven’t seen you smile these past four weeks,” Arthur told him as he walked over to the table with his breakfast.

  


Merlin kept his gaze down. “I’m not sure there’s a great deal to smile about.”

  


Arthur rolled his eyes as he sat down to eat. “I’ll get you to smile one day,” he mumbled before he took a bite of the cheese.

  


Merlin ignored that and instead walked into the room. He opened Arthur’s wardrobes and picked out his dirty clothes, his socks and everything else that was dirty and threw it into the laundry basket. Then he turned around and looked at the back of Arthur’s head, taking a deep but silent breath. He wasn’t smiling, but his neutral expression turned into a frown as he noticed the two swords in a crossed position above Arthur’s head on the opposite wall of the room.

  


It kept reminding him of the fight with Kaunos that he had. And when Arthur was fighting, barely strong enough to stand. Kaunos had a big advantage then - the necklace.

  


Merlin together with Gaius had found the meaning of the symbols on the necklace a long time ago. They still didn’t know where Kaunos could have got his hands on such powerful handcuffs or such necklace. The translation of the symbols on it was _all your magic to make useless._ It sounded simple, but it had a strong effect even against Merlin’s magic.

  


They kept the necklace. Merlin knew it might prove to be useful one day and might even protect Arthur. Or him.

  


Under the swords on the wall there was a little table pressed against it. Merlin had dusted that place many times over the last month, but he never failed to make his dusting last longer with this place.

  


Before the week that was forgotten, it had been a normal table with a few candelabra. But now next to the many candles, there stood a little clay statue of a horse that could fit into one’s hand easily.

  


It was a painful reminder of what had happened. One that Arthur could never understand. But just the fact that he kept the statue was a proof that though his memories were gone something, a _feeling_ or a mere _inkling_ , stayed with him.

  


Sometimes, Merlin would notice that Arthur picked up the little horse and held it in his hands for a few moments. But then he always put it back and never seemed to recall what it meant.

  


He closed his eyes briefly, trying to numb the pain. Something that he’d learned to do, but not so effectively around Arthur. After that he returned to work. He took the laundry basket and left it by the window - later he’d pick it up again and deal with it. Then he went to adjust the corners of Arthur’s bed.

  


Arthur ate as he worked.

  


When Arthur finished, Merlin was done making his bed and went to fetch the basket again. Once he picked it up, he turned away from the window-

  


\- and was met face to face with the fire in the fireplace. The heat and light enveloped him and suddenly he felt as if it was all around him. He gasped and winced violently, almost falling if it wasn’t for Arthur.

  


Once again, after a month, he found himself in Arthur’s strong arms.

  


“What are you doing?” Arthur asked. When Merlin turned around to face him instead of the fire, there was confusion and worry in Arthur’s eyes.

  


They were _so close_.

  


His lips inches away from his, and Arthur didn’t flinch away.

  


He still held Merlin firmly. Merlin couldn’t help it as he glanced at Arthur’s lips. Then he finally found his balance again, but didn’t push away from him. He couldn’t. His body and mind were frozen.

  


But he could still feel the heat on his back.

  


His eyes filled with tears and before he knew it, he was full on sobbing in Arthur’s arms. Arthur frowned in confusion, but didn’t hesitate when he wrapped his arms around him. He was weak when it came to Merlin, Merlin knew that.

  


“Okay,” Arthur mumbled as he rubbed Merlin’s back and moved away from the fire, sitting them down on the bed, away from the fire. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked.

  


Merlin didn’t even have the power to shrug at that. All that pain, that trauma, it all came crashing down on him in this little moment, right in front of Arthur, and now he couldn’t stop.

  


His shoulders were shaking as he held tight to his prince. His prince who didn’t even remember that this already happened once before, when they appeared in the hills right after the unsuccessful execution.

  


“Y-you don’t re-remember,” Merlin just whispered.

  


“Merlin, you’re not making any sense. What the hell do I _not_ remember?” he heard Arthur ask.

  


There were so many spells that Merlin has learned over the past four weeks and yet none of them could help him in any way. Not one could give Arthur back his memories and remind him of their lost moments.

  


The spell _was_ irreversible, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  


He had to accept it.

  


There was just no way of giving Arthur back his memories.

  


. . .

  


“Are you going to tell me what I don’t remember or what?” Arthur asked him impatiently, but still holding him close on the bed, slightly confused.

  


“I can’t tell you,” Merlin sobbed. It would never be the same if Arthur just heard it. He had to remember it. See it. He had to be shown what he’s lost and why it mattered.

  


“Can’t you show me then?” Arthur mumbled.

  


Merlin was silent for a while, just breathing in and out against Arthur’s chest, his eyes closed tightly.

  


He could show him.

  


He could _show_ him.

  


He _could_ show him.

  


He finally took a deep breath and gently pushed away from him. Arthur’s hands fell down from Merlin’s back, but stayed on his shoulders. He kept looking into Merlin’s wet eyes, not really knowing what to do.

  


“Trust me,” Merlin whispered, knowing well that that was the last thing Arthur had told him before Merlin stole his memories. “Trust me and I’ll show you.”

  


“Alright,” Arthur shrugged.

  


Out of all the spells that Merlin has learned, that was one that he could use at this moment. One that would help him and maybe, _maybe,_ help Arthur understand.

  


He slowly reached out his hands and placed them on Arthur’s cheeks. His hands were shaking, but Arthur didn’t move away. Merlin closed his eyes and let their foreheads touch.

  


He was going to show him his memories, _share_ them with him.

  


He was going to let him see what happened through _his_ eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arthur felt Merlin’s shaking hands on his cheeks and he didn’t move away. He was a little surprised that he didn’t, but when it came to Merlin, he often lost control of himself.

  


He trusted Merlin. And whatever he was doing now, it seemed important.

  


Then Arthur felt something. Merlin’s fingers moved to his temples and-

  


Arthur gasped.

  


_. . ._

  


“ _I swear I heard concern in your voice.”_

  


“ _You definitely didn’t.”_

  


_Laughter._

  


_Heartache._

  


“ _I’m responsible for you, Merlin. And you can’t just leave like that, not without a permission.”_

  


“ _Alright, so now that you’re here, do I have your permission to leave Camelot?”_

  


_Lies._

  


_Secrets._

  


“ _Are you saying you wish to leave Camelot . . . forever?”_

  


“ _Keep your secrets.”_

  


_Guilt._

  


_Fear._

  


“ _By the laws of Camelot, I hereby sentence you to death.”_

  


“ _It’s okay. It’s okay now, we’re safe.”_

  


_Magic._

  


_Love._

  


“ _Look, a shooting star!”_

  


“ _We kissed.”_

  


“ _I didn’t know you . . . felt that way about me.”_

  


“ _I’d die for you, Arthur.”_

  


“ _I’ll never let that happen. If you die . . . Then I have no reason to be alive.”_

  


_Trust._

  


_Guilt._

  


_. . ._

  


Image after image, memory after memory flashed through Arthur’s mind. He saw himself in situations that he didn’t remember. But Merlin did. In a matter of seconds, Arthur saw everything. He saw Merlin writing the letter, running away, he saw him almost being enveloped in _flames._

  


He saw a strange man attack them again and again. A necklace. There was a necklace.

  


And then nothing.

  


Merlin removed his hands from his head and kept looking down on the bed, unsure. Arthur looked at him and just kept looking until he didn’t even know what he saw.

  


This wasn’t his manservant, this was a completely different man in front of him. Someone who’d been through more than anyone his age should have, someone who had magic and yet saved him many times and _loved_ him with all his heart.

  


Arthur saw everything he needed to.

  


He didn’t remember it. But he knew now how Merlin felt.

  


He slowly took Merlin’s hands in his, his eyes still wide. Their eyes met and Arthur kept looking into them, still filled with tears. He slowly placed his hand on Merlin’s cheek and stared at him.

  


“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, _I love you._ ”

  


After no less than thirty days, Merlin finally gave him a genuine smile. He put his hand over Arthur’s on his cheek and sniffled. “I love you too, Arthur.”

  


And Arthur didn’t need to know or see more.

  


He leaned in and closed the distance between them, slowly and hesitantly kissing Merlin’s lips as if it was the first time, even if now he knew it wasn’t. Merlin kissed back and they held each other tightly, just like they always were supposed to.

  


After all, there was much more for them in the future. And although this may have seemed like the end . . .

  


It was the _beginning_.

  
  
  
  


 

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*** THE END ***

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! It was a long adventure and took a lot of work from me, matchboximpala and my two brave betas who weren't afraid to say no to such a long fanfic, just a week before the posting date :D
> 
> Thanks! I hope you enjoyed it! ♥


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